


Phantastic Voyage

by NerdyMind



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Rated Teen for violence and video game deaths, Video & Computer Games, adventure with a side of romance, and Dan's potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4170072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyMind/pseuds/NerdyMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Phil ties the record in <i>Dan vs Phil</i>, Dan decides to up the stakes. He orders a weird game from Japan that literally sets them against one another in a world populated by their favorite TV shows. The only way to win is to survive and get home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tabi

“Yes!” Dan tosses his controller down and jumps up, shaking the desk and camera. Hips swaying in celebration. “Oh yeah, who won, I won. Who’s the best, I am. Yeah, uh huh, that’s right. I kicked that puzzle in the butt. What big butt, your big butt. And that makes five wins for me,” he trails off and stops dancing. Phil has that look. He knows that look. Dan _hates_ that look. “Phil, don’t you dare say it.”

“Dan, no, listen,” his voice is all serious business. Like he’s delivering closing statements for a grand jury. “It’s too late. The gauntlet has been tossed, all your chickens have been hatched and the money is on the table. All or--”

“No,” Dan interrupts and sits back down beside his best friend, decidedly not responding to the pair of hands shaking him by the shoulder.

“Dan..” Phil’s voice is pleading now, lips puffing out in a pout. “Come on, you know you want to,” he clenches his fists dramatically. “All. Or. Nothing.”

“Ugh, Phiiiil,” Dan groans and sinks lower into the sofa. Arms crossing in defiance. “NO. You always do this. And I always regret it.”

“Please? Just one more round.” Phil stares and waits. He knows Dan will say yes, but he plays up the pouting for the fans, eyes going wide and watery.

“Fine.”

“Yesssss.”

\----

Four hours later, Dan is sat awake scrolling through Tumblr and most certainly not still grumping about his loss. On a good day, Daniel Howell is a generous gamer. A man who will gladly forfeit the win for a friend’s enjoyment. He’ll sell you Park Place or trade you crafting items if it will make you smile. But today was not a good day. Between work stress and feeling poorly (he’s beginning to think sniffling peasants seek him out on purpose) Dan’s just had a bad week. It’s not that he’s upset with Phil, but he’d just really, really wanted to win.

He cheers himself up with a reminder that now it’s his chance to pick the game for their next Versus video. With Phil’s sneaky ‘all or nothing’ win the scores are tied. The next video will be a tie breaker and this calls for something.. extra special. Closing out the tabs for his usual game shops, Dan starts with Google and finds himself tripping down the depths of the rabbit hole known as Reddit. By sunrise he’s landed on an obscure store page whose order screen is a barely decipherable mix of Kanji and Romanji with broken English. He hesitates for a moment, but his sleep addled brain reminds him he’s made sketchier coffee binge purchases before.

The game is called **Tabi** , which a quick Google translate tells him means 'voyage' and the parenthesis subtitle of _Journey_ tells him it’s close enough to accurate. There are three gameplay screens which seem to be as diverse as they are intriguing. Forests, graveyards, desert temples and something which may or may not be an abandoned high school. The game is listed as a 2 player co-op with versus option. Just what he needs. Squinting he tries to see if the menu screens are in English but shrugs and clicks the PayPal option. _We can just wing it_ , Dan thinks. They got through _Bishi-Bashi,_ they can guess their way through this one.

\----

When the order arrives six days later, Dan has trouble containing himself. Dashing downstairs to greet the postman with all the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning. He considers playing the game first to test the waters, but decides against it. Dan is a patient man. He can save his genuine reactions for the video. Victory will come in due time. He secrets the package under his bed and heads to the kitchen for coffee.

“Morning,” Phil greets around a mouthful of cereal. He swallows and looks Dan up and down. Surprised to find his flatmate out of bed so early. “Was that you I heard running down the steps earlier?”

“Yeah,” Dan cannot be arsed to produce multisyllabic answers before noon.

“Anything good?” Phil asks.

Dan considers keeping the secret a bit longer. He smiles, eyes going wide before throwing a cheeky wink. “Oh yeaaah....” He takes his coffee back to his room and closes the door, hoping his giggles are muffled.

“Dan?” Phil is not a patient man. He is curious and when prodded, relentless. “What are you doing?” He is stood just beyond the younger man’s door, socked feet tapping away. Cereal soggy and forgotten in the lounge.

Dan composes himself, and mentally reviews their schedules for the day before answering. “Go set up the camera in the gaming room and I’ll show you.”

“Fine. But it better not be another scary game, Daniel, or I’ll cut off all your toes.” Phil answers before leaving to do as he’s told.

“It’s not,” Dan answers fifteen minutes later as he enters the lounge, game behind his back.

“Did you just answer my question from earlier like some TV character cut away shot?” Phil laughs. He adjusts the camera angle and sits on the big black sofa waiting.

“Shut up. And get ready to get beat,” Dan pauses, checks the camera to find it’s not yet recording. “Wait, hold on. Ready?” One final fringe check and he settles beside Phil on the sofa.

“Hey guys,” Dan starts them off.

“Hello Dan and Phil.. Secret.. Salamanders??”

“Sala… I’m not even going to.. Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you ready to defend your Versus title?”

“Ummm… yes?”

“Then get your controller callouses ready for... “ he pauses, picking the correct camera angle for the dramatic reveal. “The Japanese adventure game hand crafted three thousand years ago by the ghosts of sake demons...” he flips the box from behind his back holding it up to the camera before turning to show Phil. “ _Tabi_!”

“Ahh!” Phil plays up the shock, grabbing his heart and jumping back from the box. “That sounds terrifying. What is it?”

Dan hands him the game. “Beats meee,” he sings out with a shrug, “I ordered it at four am on a website I could barely read!” Dan smiles at the camera, hamming it up.

“What?!” Phil’s voice betrays actual shock. He’ll have to lecture Dan about irresponsible purchases later. Flipping the box over, Phil catches sight of the dark forest level. His eyes go wide. “Dan. There’s a forest. A dark.. forest. You promised me this wasn’t going to be like Slender, you butt.”

Dan grabs the box back, peeling open the plastic wrapping with his teeth. “It isn’t scary don’t worry,” he shoots Phil a reassuring look. "Plenty of nice games have forests.”

“Like what?” Phil asks skeptically as he looks around the desk for scissors.

“Umm.. _Zelda_ ,” Dan answers. He waves off the scissors Phil hands over, holding up the opened CD in triumph. “And _Pokemon_. There are nice tree riddled maps in Hoenn where demon spawn do not eat your face off.”

“Okay… I guess.” Phil settles back into the sofa as Dan boots up the game. He nervously fiddles with his controller, watching and waiting. Phil is impatient, impulsive some days. But he’s grown used to planning their videos. Though his heart is racing in excitement, part of his mind is cautious.

Dan settles back to his spot on the sofa and picks up Player 1 controls. He checks the streaming preview on the PC to make sure game capture is working before proceeding. Fringe check. “Ready Phil?”

“Ready.”

Both men lean forward instinctively as the the soft strains of midi violin belts out a haunting melody through their speakers. The startup screen is plain blue, no developer or copyright date listed. Just the game title in simple black block lettering and two clickable options: **Co-op** or **Versus**.

“Boy I am just sick of these modern games going overboard with graphics. I mean geez, save your budget mate,” Dan jokes. Beside him Phil half smiles but he finds the whole thing a bit unnerving.

Dan selects ‘Versus’ and a new window loads. **Are you sure? Y N**

**_Y_ **

**Okay… if you insist.**

Dan and Phil share a glance. But they’ve seen creepier game intros. The screen goes black and a keyboard appears below a blinking cursor.

**Player 1, enter your name.**

**_D A N_ **

**Player 2?**

**_P H I L_ **

**Let us begin.**

Dan can feel Phil tensing up beside him and laughs awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. Phil turns to say something just as Dan presses the start button, but he finds his mouth has gone numb. For the briefest moment, the room smells electric and Phil thinks they’ve been struck by lightning. There is a flash, blinding white light and then, darkness.

“Dan?”

Five seconds pass though it feels like ages. Phil squints, feeling about his surroundings. He is still sat but his knees are elevated and his bum feels uncomfortable. “Dan?”

Rubbing at his eyes, shadows slowly emerge, taking shape and Phil doesn’t smell a thunderstorm any longer. No. This new scent is earthy and wet and… oh no. Blinking he looks around. He’s in a bloody forest.

“Dan!”


	2. Shingeki no Phan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys wake up in a strange new place. Will they find each other before it's too late?

Phil tries to stand but an unfamiliar weight pulls him down by the hips. Long, sleek cases are strapped about his waist. Each equipped with a massive gas canister. He twists to look over his shoulder, finding thick cords and intimidating swords secured to a series of belts and buckles and holsters. His eyes and mouth go wide in recognition as he looks down. “What the…”

Gone are his skinny jeans and button up from this morning. In their place Phil finds thigh straps, tight khaki gear, knee-high boots and a familiar cropped leather jacket. His right hand shakes, tracing the raised embroidery wings over his heart. It’s too real to be a dream. Phil flinches back and looks around to take in his surroundings. The forest seems less dark than previously assumed. Sunlight starting to show through the thick canopy.

He spins about and notes that Dan is nowhere to be seen. It’s reassuring to find he’s not incapacitated beside him, but terrifying that they’ve been separated in this odd place. Especially if they’ve been sent where he thinks they have. Putting himself in Dan’s mind, he reasons the younger man would seek to be out of the woods as soon as possible. No sense wasting time, Phil picks the direction which looks more well lit and starts walking.

___

When Dan comes to, his mind is screaming. No migraine has ever felt this terrible. It’s dark and hot and he swears he’s being slowly smothered by a giant damp pillow. He tries to lift his arms and push up with his legs but each limb falls heavy. Bogged down by the slimy surface of what feels like warm custard. He takes a sharp breath and chokes back a gag. _Make that spoiled custard_. The sense of drowning washes over him momentarily. But he’s not sinking, just floating.

Dan stops struggling and blinks into the darkness until his eyes begin to adjust. Shadows and form taking shape around him. The space is claustrophobic. His panicked pants echoing back from pulsing walls. He struggles once more to gain footing, anything solid to stand upon. But everything is slick and resisting him. He changes his tactic, wriggling each finger, slowly following up the planes of his body.

Finally, left hand popping free of the thick surface, he reaches forward. Something thick and rope like protrudes from the wall and he grips with all his might, tugging until his wrist feels like it will snap in two. Mustering up every remaining ounce of strength he lets loose a yell and pulls. A sick sucking sound pulls at his sides until he pulls free with a loud pop. Shifting closer to the right wall, he finds a faint light source. One with jagged lines that look familiar yet alien. Like something you would see on a dental x-ray. Shaking his head, Dan laughs the panicked giggle of someone questioning their sanity. _Are those teeth?_ he wonders, but no words come. His struggle has left him exhausted and he leans against the slick walls to close his eyes for just a moment.

___

Phil pushes past the forest’s edge and pauses to catch his breath. On tired legs he staggers forward, looking up just in time to catch himself from walking over the ledge. _Why is there a ledge here?_ Cautiously, he creeps towards the dropoff. Where there should be meadow there is naught but air. Or more accurately, space. No discernable horizon in the vast nothingness before him and Phil finds he cannot stop staring. What he’s looking at should not exist. Granted, he shouldn’t be dressed in a Survey Corps uniform hauling around mobility gear either but here he is.

Turning back the way he came, Phil looks around, takes in the treeline and wonders idly if he can gain a better view from the top. Before he has time to process the question, his hands are reacting, grappling hooks set sail and Phil finds he is flying. His body taking over with muscle memory he has no rights to, leaving all question behind in a trail of compressed air. It’s disorienting but he allows himself a small cheer of joy as trees whip by at impressive speeds. The fanboy inside cannot be quelled despite odd circumstance.

After a few moments of flight, Phil finds himself sat atop the tallest tree and looking out over the strange biome. His heart is racing, threatening to rend itself from his chest. Habit kicks in as he turns to the right and says, “My heart is pounding! Feel it.”

But Dan is not there.

“Oh,” he drops his hand back to his side and focuses back on the alien skyline. The forest isn’t a forest so much as a small grove of trees sat dead center of a circular disc of land which looks like it has been wholly plucked and levitated into space. Even more confusing are the smaller floating blocks of grass and rock on the edge of the tree line which seem to be suspended by magic or willpower of their own.

Crashing and snapping branches to his right draw Phil’s eye. He watches as the tree line pulses with movement, bending in the wake of something powerful. A mass of fingers far too large to be human reaches into the sky and his heart sinks in realization. Phil shrinks down to hide, watching and waiting.

___

Dan is angry. Properly upset. But he cannot for the life of him remember why. He just knows Phil is not here and he wants, _needs_ , to find him. The singular fixation overwhelms all thought and he lurches forward. His body running on autopilot. He feels odd. Taller and stronger than before. But he cannot remember why.

 _Phil. Phil. Philly Philip Phil,_ he thinks to himself. Internal monologue set on repeat as he breaks into a dash. There are too many trees blocking his view and Dan pushes them aside, growling in frustration when the frail switches whip back to scratch at his arms and legs. He briefly wonders why his skin is exposed to begin with but the curiosity is fleeting. Up ahead he can see movement near two floating planes of earth. His heart starts pounding, energy and hope renewed as he dashes forward. The small speck vanishes and Dan squints his eyes, hunching shoulders to lean forward and get a better view. He lifts his hand to block the sun only to find there is no sun, just unnatural light from an unknown source. Dan recoils at the confusing sight but, as before, his fear is squelched immediately.

Continuing forward, Dan becomes aware of his height. He tries to speak but but his mouth does not cooperate. His teeth feel large and... _awkward? No._ He searches for the correct word, straining to sort his racing mind. _Borrowed,_ he thinks. _This is not my hand. These are not my eyes._ Movement distracts him.

Dan stills and stares, head cocking to the side as a large wooden crate manifests on one of the small floating dirt blocks. Curious, he moves closer and reaches out to touch the box. Only to find his borrowed hands are too powerful. The fragile container explodes after one touch.

He cowers down, expecting a rain of splintered wood debris. But the box has simply vanished. In its place is a pile of food, glowing orbs and a familiar mushroom. Dan stares, confused. Unwilling to believe what his eyes are showing him. He thinks, or attempts to think. Mind fuzzy and full of cottonball thoughts. He can’t seem to focus on any one thing despite his struggling. A flash of movement overhead draws his eye and Dan’s heart swells in joy.

It’s Phil. His best friend, his flatmate, the one person he can trust and rely on to set him right. “Phil,” Dan says. Or tries to. His mouth is open but the words come out garbled and low. Phil’s face contorts in determination, arms twisting to his sides as Dan’s useless mouth screeches and growls out at him. Phil comes closer and Dan begins to wonder where the man jumped from. And why he is dressed in weird buckles and boots. And lastly, why he looks so very tiny.

He has no time to process the onslaught of information before Phil is on him, arms raised high overhead and-- Dan panics.

Phil is brandishing swords and he doesn't understand. But instinct takes over and the animal inside him knows he is under attack. Dan shifts his left hand and clamps down on the base of his neck. _Not the neck_ , he thinks. Part of him half remembers why. “Phil!” he tries again, ducking and dodging the blow. But again, no words make it from thought to mouth. The small swords hack into his hand, grazing the knuckles in stinging pain.

Dan turns to see Phil flying past him once more, blades gripped tight in each hand. Scared and worried, he turns into himself, balling up to be a smaller target. But his body is too bulky and too new. He stumbles, arms flailing out to regain his balance. Phil sees the opening and swoops in. Two quick cuts and Dan is screaming. His mind is on fire again. Before darkness. And falling.

___  
Phil drops down, clicking the broken blades free and replacing the holsters to his sides before standing. Killing a titan was everything he had imagined. The exhilaration, the danger. He turns to check his foe has been destroyed when three hearts appear over the smoking husk. One of the hearts blinks out and disappears. The two remaining shimmer and fade before they are replaced with floating text.

**D A N**

Realization blooms and the next few seconds move for him in stop motion. Dan’s naked form falling from the vanishing hull of the titan’s severed neck frame by painful frame.

Phil hardly registers a booming voice echo down from the holodeck sky, “Player two wins.” He runs without thinking. Low-hanging branches and tangled undergrowth cutting his face. His lungs fight him every step of the way, choking on the silent scream that claws itself from him in a broken gasp. “Dan. Please, no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lives:  
> Phil - 3 Dan - 2
> 
> Influences for this level:  
> Shingeki no Titan & Super Smash Bros
> 
> No one will die for reals, promise. xx


	3. Phampire Slayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan is back, but everything has changed. Round 2, FIGHT!

Dan’s head begins to clear, the fog of confusion dissipating until all he can hear is Phil’s voice calling out his name. He tries to move but finds his body too weak to stand. His senses dulled and dream-like as he shifts gingerly to sit upright. Dan blinks awake, shaking his head and looking around for Phil. The shadow of his vision slowly pulls into focus as hurried steps draw near.

“Dan!” Phil breaks through the undergrowth and falls to his knees, thankful to find his friend awake and breathing. He immediately pulls Dan to his chest. Overwhelmed by a need to feel his warmth, his heartbeat pulsing between them. Anything to prove this, too, is not just an illusion. Phil wraps his arms tighter, crushing the air from them both. He presses his cheek to Dan’s hair and takes a deep breath before speaking. Words jumble, as he attempts to explain and beg forgiveness in one breath. “Dan, I thought.. I-- you were just-- and the titan-- and the swords-- and I was in space-- and I thought maybe it’s just a game-- But then you lost a heart-- and I… frick-- Dan. You’re alive! Thank god.”

“Phil,” Dan squirms to loosen the hug. “I’m okay. I‘m okay, honestly.” He laughs and lets himself be held a moment longer before pulling back. His nose is throbbing from being squished and he rubs the pain away, looking up to cast a soft smile for his friend. His relief is overshadowed by Phil’s need for reassurance. “Now, start from the begin--” Dan jerks back, mouth hanging open mid-sentence. “Phil! Oh my god.”

“What? What’s happened?”

“Your face.”

“What do you mean my face?,” Phil rocks back on his heels and reaches up to touch his face, feeling bumps and welts across his forehead. “Oh, that. I’m fine. I was just running to get to you and the branches scratched me up a bit. It’s--”

“Those are not scratches,” Dan interrupts, shifting to lean in for a closer inspection. “You look… okay now this is going to sound a bit mental but, umm, there is no other way to explain it. You literally look like a Buffyverse vampire.”

“What?!” Phil looks around for any reflective surface, but finds nothing. Desperate and frustrated, he grabs Dan by the shoulders and leans closer. Squinting at his own reflection in the boy’s eyes. At first, the image is fuzzy and a bit distorted. Until he realizes it’s not the reflection but his actual face which has gone off. “Oh. My. God I look terrible! What’s happened?” Phil pinches at the new folds of skin above his nose, shifting his glasses askew. He sits back, face in his hands, fighting every urge to scream and cry. He knew the game was trouble. His mom always said to trust his gut instincts and here he was, wrinkled and creepy looking, all because he ignored his guts.

“Look on the bright side, Ph--”

“What bright side?” Phil snaps, a bit harsher than intended.

“At least your fashion sense has improved,” Dan’s smile carries through his voice, calming.

Phil drops the hands from his new face and looks down, confused. The Survey Corps uniform is gone and he finds himself back in black skinny jeans and a black tee, sleeves rolled up. For a moment he feels relief in familiar clothes. But the feeling is fleeting when he finds his feet stuffed into heavy combat boots. With a sigh, he shrugs and looks back up. “I suppose it’s better than sitting here naked like-- wait. When did you get clothes?” Phil squints at Dan, trying to remember when the naked boy who fell from the sky had time to sneak into his closet and steal his shirt.

“I was naked?” Dan crosses his arms over his chest, scandalized.

“When you..” Phil fights a smile. Dan looks ridiculous, trying to cover himself, and for a second they aren’t on some weird space rock in an alternate videogame dimension. They are just Dan and Phil, safe and familiar. But the moment is lost, a flash of his friend freefalling pops back into mind and Phil frowns, “The titan. You didn’t have clothes on after I.. I--”

“But I do now,” Dan interrupts before Phil gets stuck in a guilt loop.

“You do now.”

Dan stands, stretching aching joints and gives himself a look over. He is indeed dressed but still feels exposed. Beneath Phil’s Sunnydale High tee he is wearing a ridiculous pair of short red phys ed shorts which hardly cover his arse. His legs are bare save for a pair of red-striped athletic socks and white trainers he has never seen.

“That’s my shirt,” Phil says, meaning to lighten the mood but his words come out petulant and whiny. His heart isn’t in the mood for laughter. This whole situation is confusing and strange and he doesn’t like it. He just wants to go home.

“Well I bought it for you,” Dan shrugs, he feels his own face for any change, but finds he is thankfully wrinkle-free. “And are these shorts some secret stash from your Mister Motivator days?”

“Shut up,” Phil pouts. He continues to fume, running his fingers through his hair only to find the fringe is gone and replaced with stiff peaks. “Oh come on,” he groans. “Am I supposed to be Spike? Why do I have to be a baddie? I’m a Scooby.” Phil crosses his arms and stomps a boot clad foot to the ground with a loud thud.

Dan thinks a moment then declares, “Spike was an honorary Scooby.” He steps closer, placing a hand on Phil’s elbow, trying to coax him from the foul mood.

“Chip-Spike, maybe, but not murder-Spike. And forehead face wrinkles means murder-Spike,” Phil loosens his stance, turning to face Dan. Eyes pleading for him to understand.

“But you are chip-Spike, Phil,” Dan slides his hand up to Phil’s shoulder, giving a plaintive squeeze. “You would never hurt anyone.”

Phil stiffens back up. He drops his head and shrugs Dan’s hand away. “No, I’m a bad guy, Dan,” he says. “I attacked you. You lost a heart. We may be stuck in some weird game but I know what that means. It means you died, because of me. I _killed_ you.”

“What are you on about? I feel fine and I am literally not dead,” Dan throws his hands up and spins in a circle to show he bears no injury. Phil grabs him by the shoulders and stops the motion, holding Dan steady with a serious stare.

“No, listen, there were hearts over your head, one of them blinked, went black, and disappeared. Then some creepy sky-voice said 'Player Two Wins' and you lost a life. You only have two heart thingies left!”

Dan stares and blinks, processing the information. He wishes he could more clearly remember what happened, but Phil’s face leaves little room left for doubt. “So you think..” Dan begins carefully, “we each have three lives? Then what? I mean, I set the game on versus mode…” he looks down, guilty. He bought the stupid game, he insisted on playing it and pitting them against one another. “Does that mean.. are we.. supposed to fight until one of us, what, **dies**?”

“I don’t know. God, I hope not.”

“Fuck this game. I’m not going to kill you,” Dan mumbles to his strange shoes, unable to meet Phil’s eyes.

“And I don’t want to hurt you!” Phil raises his hands in clenched fists and shouts at the hologram sky. “Augh! Why did you buy this stupid game? Why are we here?”

“I’m sorry, Phil. I--”

“And **why** are we in Sunnydale now?” Phil stares up the road, confused.  Firstly, because where did a road come from? The forest has been replaced with American suburbia and pavements. A little over one block away looms a large, all-too-familiar building. Every detail just as he remembers. The wide arches and Spanish-tile roof. Wide front steps and a courtyard full of palm trees. There is no doubt in his mind that this is the fictional school from Buffy.

Dan looks up in disbelief and moves to stand beside his friend. “What the actual fuck?”

Their feet take over, propelling the boys forward in a need to see and touch and believe. Crossing the street, past a row of stone benches, Dan and Phil walk side by side in stunned silence. The place looks deserted. Vines and unruly weeds cropping up between cracks in the pavement. Most of the windows are shattered, and those that remain are caked in years of dust.

Phil stops, arm flinging out to pause Dan beside him, “Listen.”

Dan squints, his eyes shifting to the shadows around them as he strains to listen. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Right?” Phil says, as if that explains anything. “Where are all the birds and squirrels? The butterflies? Bees? I don’t think anyone is around but there should still be animals.”

“Yeah...”

A pair of heads tilt in unison, straining to pick up the smallest shuffle of leaves. Peering into the folds of every archway, every bench, every treetop. The stretch of silence that follows feels like a century--

“There!” Dan points towards the main entrance. “I heard something.”

Phil strains his ears and eyes, seeking the phantom noise. “Do you--”

“Shh!”

_FlipFlipFlip_

A soft flutter of leathery wings echoes from the top of the central staircase. Followed by a small shadow darting down the steps and across the pavement. Dan lurches forward, grabbing Phil by the shoulder, “That’s a bat!”

Phil jerks back, hands flying up to protect his face. A loud crack rings out across the empty courtyard followed by a shrill squeak and a soft thud. Lowering his hands, Phil finds Dan stood beside him, drawing in harsh breaths and staring at his own hands in confusion. He holds a whip, the leather coil snaking across the pavement at their feet. A small, grey lump of fur and wings lies crumpled at the base of the staircase.

“What the hell?” they say in unison.

“I get the wish, you get the pinch,” Phil says without thinking, softly pinching the underside of Dan’s arm.

“What are you… where did a whip come from?” Dan asks, turning to Phil for an answer.

“Your pocket?”

Dan pats his hips. “I don’t believe these shorts possess enough fabric for pockets, Phil.”

“Videogame logic?” Phil offers. “You know how in Skyrim you can carry like a million brooms and jars of butterflies?”

Dan looks from the weapon to the bat and back up to Phil’s scary new face. He shrugs and begins rolling the leather strip back up. “I guess it makes more sense than anything else that has happened today.”

Phil pats himself down trying to find his own secret stash of hidden weapons. Finding nothing but a pack of smokes in his back pocket, he looks skyward. Dark clouds roll in overhead casting long shadows across the courtyard. “Let’s get inside,” he says, “it feels dangerous out here.”

“Alright,” Dan stares at the whip, watching in fascination as it blinks and vanishes.

___

The interior of the school looks just as abandoned as the outside. Dust-caked lockers and classroom doors overgrown with foliage. As they walk along, the boys try to open several doors but find none will budge. Even those with broken frames and missing handles seem glued in place. The hallway continues on past twenty more classrooms before Dan stops walking. He looks behind them, then back forward. “This doesn’t seem right.”

“You think?” Phil laughs, knocking his knuckles against a row of rusted lockers.

“No, I mean we have been walking for fifty years, Phil. Where we came in, there should be ten maybe twelve classrooms, at the most. And side halls. But we have seen nothing new. Where is the front office? The gymnasium? All I see is row after row of doors and lockers and I swear we’ve seen this exact classroom before,” Dan peers inside the small window and finds a familiar row of Chemistry lab equipment set across a long black table. “I have an idea,” he sits on the floor, removing his shoes and both socks. Phil watches as Dan ties one of his socks around the door handle and slips bare feet back into the trainers.

“What are you doing?”

“Trust me. Let’s go.”

The boys continue down the endless hallway, Dan counting doors aloud.

“Five.. Six.. I knew it!” Dan shouts and takes off in a sprint. Phil rushes to catch up and finds his friend standing beside a row of red lockers, staring down at his sock-knotted door handle. “Repeated background, so we are in a side-scroller.”

“But we’ve been walking forever, Daniel. Where are the enemies?” Phil asks, looking up and down the hallway. He only now realizes he can no longer see the entrance they came in. “I want to beat this level and get out of here.” _Before I hurt you_ , he thinks.

“Hey now. Watch your mouth before you jinx it, you knob. I would much rather be stuck in an empty school with you tee bee que eff--”

Dan’s words are cut off by a loud crash.

“Oh come on,” Phil groans, but shifts closer to Dan’s side. Game settings or not, he’s going to play things co-op if it kills him.

Two doors behind them, something is breaking free of the classroom. The sound of splintering wood, interspersed with low growls echos back from the lockers with a metal ting. Dan backs towards the wall, pulling Phil with him. He pushes them tighter as if they can slip between the cracks if he tries hard enough.

The door finally gives way and three humanoid forms lumber forward. They look ragged, coated in dirt. Clothing faded and ripped. Skin and muscle clinging loosely to bone and skull. “Zombies?” Phil asks. “Really?”

“Oh,” Dan’s eyes light up, an idea forming. He looks down as the weight of whip reappears in his hand, “I think, that is, the last level or round whatever, I saw a crate. I remember that. And there were powerups and mushrooms. I think it was sort of like _Smash Brothers_. But this feels more like.. Phil, we are playing _Castlevania_.  Sort of.”

“What?” Phil looks at Dan like he’s lost his mind.

“Look,” he points up the hallway, “We’ve got zombies. And bats. And a whip all in an endless side-scrolling environment. Let me just check one thing,” with that Dan jumps up and off the wall, bouncing off the top of the nearest locker with minimal effort. In a flash of movement, he tucks his knees in and does a roll midair. His whip snaps out, breaking the florescent bulb overhead as he sticks the landing several meters away.

“Oh my god,” Phil watches as the light shatters not into glass shards but gold coins. “If you’re right... then that means..” he trails off in a snarl, fists balling up.

_BANG._

His knuckles collide with a locker door. _Bangbangbang_. Punching and punching until the rusted metal caves and cracks and shatters. More coins fall to the linoleum. “Frick.”

Dan walks back, coiling the whip around his wrist. “Phil, what are you--”

“Hearts! There might be hearts, Dan.” His eyes are wild, a smile popping from cheek to cheek. Phil goes back to punching the rest of the lockers. Groaning each time the metal splinters into gold, but continues moving down the hall determined. If he can find a heart, give back the life he took. He can make things right.

Dan opens his mouth to interrupt but movement ahead draws his attention. _Oh yeah, zombies_. Harnessing his newly discovered skills, Dan leaps over Phil, whip drawn and ready to attack.

A quick crack-snap and the first monster falls with a shriek. Nothing remains but a pile of dust and bone which shimmers and blinks before vanishing. Dan readjusts his stance and prepares to attack the next enemy. Another leap and a snap of leather tears through the air and the second zombie falls before his feet have resettled.

“Hah!” Dan breaks out in a grin, “Is that the best you have?”

The door to his left explodes in answer, debris ripping across his arms and legs. Dan turns to see an impossible mass of skeletons spill from the new hole. The army of bones dashes forward, and Dan steps back cautiously. He snaps out at the wave of armor equipped monsters, taking out a few of those brandishing swords before backing down the hall towards Phil. But there are too many to hold back. “Phil?” Dan is panicked, looking around for an exit.

A deep growl whispers past Dan’s ear as Phil lunges forward. His face has grown more vicious, the folds more pronounced, lips thinned and curled back in a snarl over exposed fangs. He charges the nearest skeleton warrior, fists flying. The sharp crack of bone on bone jolts his knuckle before the throbbing is overshadowed by a searing pain behind his right eye.

“Augh!” Phil grabs at his scalp, collapsing. For a second he cannot see, cannot hear. His entire skull throbbing and hissing with the aftershock of electrocution. In the shadows of consciousness he can hear Dan fighting. The snap-crack of his whip followed by bones and coins clattering to the floor. Phil tries to blink, refocus his eyes, but the hallway lights and the sounds of struggle all mesh into a ball of excruciating pain that renders him useless. He curls into himself and groans.

“See? I knew you were chip-Spike,” Dan returns to Phil, offering a hand to help him stand.

“Not the time, Daniel.”

“Right,” Dan pulls Phil to his feet, holding him steady with a hand at his elbow. “Are you okay?”

“My brain feels like a pancake, but yes. I think I’m going to be okay.”

“Good, because we need to move.” Dan guides Phil back down the hall, past small piles of gold coins, turning into the broken classroom door. The room is thankfully cleared of zombies and they slip inside. Dan’s hand finds its way down to Phil’s wrist, tugging him toward the back window. _If I can just throw a desk through the glass, maybe we can escape,_ he thinks.

“Watch it,” Phil suddenly jerks back, pulling Dan to his side. Just below the window is a missing chunk of floor space which spans the entire length of the back wall, two meters wide and endlessly deep. Dropping down into the blackness are scattered platforms, patchy bits of brick and linoleum suspended in space.

“Now this is just getting ridiculous,” Dan scoffs. “Do they honestly expect us to jump in there when I cannot even see the bottom? There are demons in there, I know it. That is how dark it is. Look,” he gestures to the chasm. “Hell dark. Nope, not having any of that today. No thank you.”

Phil opens his mouth to speak but a loud screech interrupts. His eyes go wide, looking past Dan to the back window. The soft thwap of wings on glass fills the silence and Dan turns. They stare in horror as the window darkens quickly, hundreds of bats beating against the pane in a frenzy. The noise grows louder and louder until the glass begins to crack.

“Time to go,” Phil backs away towards the door.

“Umm, not that way,” Dan says, pointing. Phil turns to see two skeleton soldiers clamboring over one another in the doorway.

Both boys exchange a glance then look down into the hole. “Of course,” Dan mumbles. Hands clasped they jump in together.

The first ledge is wide enough for them both and the boys huddle close along the wall to regain footing before planning their next move. The second platform down is just a under a meter away, not too far. Dan goes first, jumping down with ease.

Phil toes his way to the side, looking down at Dan. “ _Castlevania_ , yep. Definitely seeing it now,” he says before jumping down.

“What was that?” Dan asks as Phil lands beside him on shaky legs.

“Platforms, that’s what was missing from our total immersion gaming experience,” Phil regains his balance and looks around. The space feels infinite, but he can clearly see the outline of a wall across the way.

“Oh yeah,” Dan laughs, leaning back and jumping to the next ledge down. “Now all we need are ridiculous backwards names.”

“What?” Phil joins his side, hand momentarily braced on Dan’s shoulder for balance.

Dan peers into the darkness around them. He picks another platform and leaps across before answering. “In the game. You know Alucard is just Dracula spelled in reverse, right?”

“What really?” Phil jumps across and pauses, spelling out the names in his head. “Oh my God that’s amazing. How did I never notice that?”

“Fake fan,” Dan laughs. The next platform down is smaller and a bit further away. He takes a deep breath before leaping.

Phil follows close behind, nearly toppling them both as he regains his footing and squeezes onto the small ledge. “What does that make you then?” He pauses to think as Dan climbs down to the larger platform below. “Leinad?”

Dan looks up to see Phil peeking down at him. “I kind of like the sound of that. Leinad. Leinad Llewoh. Oh! I get the the llama double-el with my last name. Destiny, obs.”

Phil lowers himself down carefully as Dan hops across to another ledge. “And I would be… Pilihp Retsel. Aww mine is almost the same,” he pouts.

“Sorry your name is almost a palindrome, Philly” Dan offers in condolence, but his voice betrays his smile.

Phil just shrugs and leaps across to join his side. “It’s okay.”

A soft glow lights up the remaining platforms beneath them. Dan thinks he can see the floor and speeds up his movement. Three more jumps and the boys find themselves back on solid ground. The eerie light filling a small basement with dull shades of golden honey. There is a single door, mysterious light source bleeding through from the other side. Dan looks up, squinting to see if anything has followed them down. “I don’t hear anything coming,” he says and turns to find Phil standing by the door, lost in thought.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think the chip, I mean, you don’t think--”

“Hit me,” Dan moves to stand between Phil and the door.

“What? No!” Phil steps back.

“You want to know if that thing in your head is wired to let you harm me. Just try. I am giving you my full permission to hit me.”

Phil stares in disbelief but Dan stands his ground. Unblinking, unwilling to move. Phil hesitantly raises his right hand and shoves Dan in the shoulder.

Nothing.

“No, _actually_ hit me,” Dan says, crossing his arms and leaning in.

Phil pulls back, hand shaking. He closes his eyes and slaps Dan across the cheek, the soft smack of skin on skin echoing in the silence between them.

Nothing.

“Harder, Phil. You have to get mad. It won’t count if I don’t feel any pain.”

“But you already lost a--”

Dan quickly yanks at Phil’s hair until he lets out a startled yelp.

Phil’s face hardens immediately, his lips pulling back to reveal fangs. He growls and lunges forward, grabbing Dan by the nape and pulling, hard.

Dan winces but holds his ground. Phil’s face drawing closer to his neck until he can no longer see the older boy. Hot breath passes over his racing pulse and Dan shudders, eyes slipping closed. “Do it.”

Phil runs his tongue across his teeth, fighting the urge to bite down. He can almost taste Dan’s heartbeat. The bitter coppery taste of blood fills his nostrils, tempting him, but he feels like gagging. Phil jerks back, wiping his mouth. He pulls the collar of his tee up to swipe at his tongue, attempting to remove the phantom taste. “Ugh god, no. Blood is gross.” His face scrunches up in disgust.

“You are literally the worst vampire,” Dan sighs, eyes fluttering back open. “Pleb-vamp.”

“Well I’m soooo sorry I don’t find the thought of murdering you appealing,” Phil shakes his head and frowns, “I am not going to hurt you again.”

Dan rubs at his neck and looks up, “I don’t believe we have a choice in the matter.”

“You always have a choice!”

“Perhaps in the real--”

A wet squishing sound from behind the door interrupts and both boys lurch back. It sounds like someone is throwing wet rags against the wall. _Thwapthwapthwap._

Suddenly, the door gives way as something massive plows through. The explosion of debris blows Dan backwards and he hits the wall with a crack of bone. He slides down groaning and looks up in horror as one of the platforms overhead breaks free, crashing down across his legs. The pain is excruciating. He looks around for Phil, panicked, but the dust is too thick. “Phil?”

“I’m here,” Phil answers somewhere to his left. Dan rubs at his eyes, blinking and squinting until the room takes shape once more. In the flood of amber light pouring from a hole where the door used to be, Dan watches a giant grey worm wriggle inside. It’s massive, at least ten meters wide and flailing about. Knocking more rubble to the floor.

Dan finds Phil stood beside him, fangs back in full force. “Can you move?”

“I think my legs are pinned.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get y--” Phil’s words are cut off by another falling platform. He jumps back, narrowly avoiding becoming Flat Philly.

“Phil!” Dan screams out a warning, but it’s too late. Phil is too close to the hole. The worm whips around, knocking him into a pile of rubble. Dan can only watch as his best friend is tossed about like a rag doll. The blow leaves Phil immobile, a crumpled heap of black clothes. Three hearts appear over his body, one blinking out and disappearing. Phil’s eyes stare back blank and lifeless. His face goes soft, back to normal Phil before he, too, blinks and vanishes.

“Player 1 wins,” a deep voice booms from above.

Dan’s vision blurs with fresh tears. He closes his eyes and accepts the wave of darkness that settles over his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. It kinda ran away from me and oops it's 3x as long as the previous chapters. Enjoy!  
> ____  
> Lives:  
> Phil - 2 Dan - 2
> 
> Influences for this level:  
> Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Castlevania


	4. Phan!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Splash free~! The boys have a few tricks up their sleeves this time, but will the game tolerate cheating?

Dan feels the weight on his legs shifting but he’s frozen, too scared to look. He waits for death, certain the worm has come for him next. The pregnant pause of space pulsates in his strained ears. But nothing happens. Instead, the pain in his thighs dissipates and a new pressure pools in, warm and gentle. He furrows his brow but refuses to look. His nose twitches, the smell of chlorine filling his senses as he lets soft wisps of air back into his lungs. Something wet drips down Dan’s cheek and his ears pick up a faint swishing sound nearby, tiny ripples and waves. _Water_. For a moment he thinks he is drowning.

Then Dan is being kissed.

Soft lips cautiously brushing against his own. Startled, Dan’s eyes flutter open. The face above him is mostly hidden behind a mass of black fringe, dripping wet. But he knows the face and smiles into the kiss, relieved. _Finally_ , he thinks, _it was a nightmare after all. And now...a lovely, familiar dream._ “Haru…” Dan says softly, his hands sneaking up damp flesh to hold tight and he kisses back with intent.

“Mmf m.. Dan!” Phil pulls back and looks down confused. He was meant to be performing CPR, not molesting his unconscious flatmate.

Dan’s eyes fly open and he jerks upright. His face and neck flushed with embarrassment. “Phil? What?” He looks down, painfully aware of how close they are. Phil still straddled over him, practically sat in his lap.

“Sorry..” Phil stands and steps back, his face slipping between a myriad of pinks and reds. His hands ball up at his sides, soft punches of frustration to his hips. “I thought, I mean, you weren’t breathing, and the pool..” he trails off and turns away.

Dan tries to speak but his mind is a jumble of thoughts. Confusion at the forefront as he mumbles his own apology and stands on shaking legs. Phil is alive and stood before him, no longer a lifeless mass. No longer a vampire. They have left the basement of Sunnydale High. Unless he missed an episode where the swimming pool was relocated and the basement was now on the ground floor surrounded by large windows. Dan finds himself staring at Phil. Sunlight dances across the surface of the water throwing shadows and light across every bit of his skin.

“Oh,” Dan chokes on his words, stunned. “Wow… you. wow.”

“What?” Phil turns, right hand flying to his face. “No, tell me I’m not a wrinkle-faced baddie again!”

“You are absolutely not a wrinkle-faced baddie,” Dan confirms, smiling as the air of awkwardness slowly dissipates. He steps closer, really looking Phil over. The resemblance to Haru is uncanny. His fringe is wild and wet, eyes an ethereal shade of blue. Not a stitch of clothing over miles and miles of pale flesh save for a skin tight pair of black and purple swimmers which leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. Dan catches himself and forces his eyes back up to Phil’s face.

“Phil,” he asks, “where is your shirt?”

Phil laughs despite the churning in his gut, “The same place as yours I think.” He gestures to Dan in answer.

Dan looks down and finds his own chest is bare. But more disturbingly, so are his legs and most of the rest of him. The only scrap of cloth saving him from complete embarrassment is a tiny yellow speedo dotted with pink and blue butterflies. “What the ffffffffff…” The expletive never comes to fruition and Dan looks back up to find Phil doubled over, giggling. _How dare?_ “Seriously Phil? What the _hell_ am I wearing? Please tell me you can explain this because I am ten seconds from jumping into the pool and drowning.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Phil apologizes again, stifling giggles and wiping tears from his eyes. “I think we’re in the swimming anime.”

“And you’re Haru. Of course you are,” Dan confirms more to himself. “and I’m… Rei?” He looks back down at himself, disappointed. Sighing at the feel of glasses slipping down his face. “But he’s so--”

“Determined? Smart? Kind? Fit... ,” Phil steps forward and carefully pushes the red framed glasses back up Dan’s nose. He waits for eye contact before continuing. “All words I would use to describe you.”

“Shut up,” Dan protests, turning his head and pushing Phil’s hand away. But his words are soft and shy. Fingers reaching up to adjust his fringe, a nervous tick. He squints and turns into the light to find the hairs are blue. Of course they are. Dan pouts and turns back to Phil, “Didn’t know you _looooooved_ Rei so much, nerd.”

“And what about you?” Phil teases beside him. He lets out an exaggerated, breathy moan. “H-Ha-Haru-chan!”

“Actually shut up,” Dan feels his cheeks heating up again and shoves his flatmate away. But he can’t help the smile that blooms on his face or the laugh that slips out.

Dan looks over, locks eyes with Phil and neither boy can stop themselves. The laughter pours out unhindered, washing away every shred of weirdness between them. It’s a cleansing laughter that despite the odd circumstance, despite watching one another die, they need.

“Alright.. alright,” Dan says finally between gasps for air, “let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Phil lets loose a few straggler giggles before he straightens up and inspects their surroundings. “There,” he points across the pool to a glowing red _Exit_ sign.

The boys step forward, towards the pool’s edge and a floating number three appears, encased in green and hovering overhead.

 **“On your marks…”** a mystery voice booms from the air.

“No, nope, nope-ity nope,” Dan laughs nervously and steps back. He drags Phil by the elbow until they crowd against the back wall. “Ain’t having none of that.”

“Dan, we have to get to the exit. Look around, there aren’t any other doors out of here.”

“I know. But, we can take a proper look around before just jumping into some weird swimming pool and hoping nothing tries to eat us, Phil! I’m not even sure what hell game we’re trapped in this time.”

“Right,” Phil looks down to where Dan is still held tight to his elbow, “Umm..”

Dan catches the movement and drops his grip, embarrassed. “So...,” he says, “I’ll go left, you go right. Shout if you find anything.” Dan stumbles away towards the wall of windows, muttering to himself in reprimand.

Phil smiles, turns to his right and heads for what appears to be a changing room on the side wall. The doorway is quite far off so he lets his mind wander. Curious if Dan could possibly have the same feelings for him that he’s tried to suppress since their first meeting. _Of course_ , he reasons, _we have been through a lot today. And Dan gets clingy when he’s frightened. It probably means nothing._ Shaking away the idle thoughts he looks up and finds the changing room is still quite far off. He begins to sprint but the doorway looms in the distance just as far as before.

“Phil?” Dan calls from across the room, the rest of his words muffled and impossibly far away. Phil spins around, confused to find his flatmate is stood waving from hundreds of meters away.

Dan cups his hands around his mouth and shouts louder, “I don’t think it ends.”

“Same here,” Phil yells back, “I’m not getting any closer.” He takes one more look at the changing room door to confirm his suspicions before turning back.

The boys run back towards the room’s center and collapse side by side, huffing for air.

“I don’t think we’re quite as fit as the actual Swim Club boys,” Phil laughs.

“Speak for yourself, Philly,” Dan flexes his arms, posing. “These guns are registered weapons. Bam.”

“Oh yes, I see it now,” Phil leans closer and squints.

“Shut up,” Dan laughs, playfully shoving him aside. He walks back to the pool’s edge where they first began and looks out across the pool. Phil joins his side and waits. Softly humming _Splash Free_ to kill the time while Dan thinks.

“Okay, plan B,” Dan turns and claps his hands together in decision. “It’s a racing style sports game most likely. Which means we can have a draw--”

“Are you sure--”

“No, but we have to try. So, we will go across slowly and together--”

“And at the end?”

“At the end we count down and touch the pool edge together. That’s how they count time in the Olympics, yeah? Could work here,” he shrugs. Face frozen in a hopeful smile.

“Yeah, okay. Okay,” Phil nods in agreement, looking between Dan and the exit.

Together they sit on the pool’s edge, slowly letting their feet slip beneath the water.

The voice returns along with the floating countdown orb.

**“On your marks..**

**Get set..**

**Go!”**

An alarm rings out and a phantom gunshot echoes through the empty space. Dan jumps with a start and reaches out for Phil. But he’s gone, already slipped beneath the surface.

“Phil, you knob!” Dan yells and jumps in after him. He flails initially until his limbs cooperate and he can pull himself up for air. Once back up top, he finds Phil holding the pool’s edge, waiting.

“Ready?” Phil asks with a grin, and Dan finds he can’t be mad.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Side by side they push off. Dan keeping a close eye on the red glow of the Exit sign as they work their way across the water. Phil doesn’t break the silence until they confirm the exit is actually getting closer. And when he does speak, his voice is so soft, Dan isn’t quite sure he’s heard it at all.

“Dan?”

“Phil?”

“What was it like for you?”

“What was what like?

“Dying.”

“Oh,” Dan tries to recall but his memory comes up short. “Umm. I don’t remember much. It was damp and gross and then I remember feeling scared. Then nothing I guess. Just.. nothing.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No, it was more like.. I fell asleep. You know? And there wasn’t a dream or anything but I just woke up in that forest and heard you…” he trails off. Then scrunches his face up at the thought that’s crossed his mind. “Did it hurt.. for you?”

“I remember you yelling,” Phil says. “After the wall fell on you and… but then it was dark and I couldn’t move. It was like a giant marshmallow was holding me down. But when the lights came back on, I couldn’t breathe. And we were under water.”

“Both of us?”

“Yeah.”

“So you--”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“I wasn’t going to just leave you there.”

“Of course,” Dan smiles and slows his swimming. “I wouldn’t leave you either, Phil. Never.”

Phil swims up beside him and they look up at the pools edge just within reach. “Ready?”

Dan nods and they inch closer to the side. “Okay. After three,” Dan reaches forward, hand hovering.

“You count.” Phil hovers his hand, level with Dan’s.

“One. Two,” Dan pauses to take a deep breath as both boys lean forward. “Three!” The synchronization couldn’t be any more precise if it had been two programmed robots. They freeze, fingers gripping the pool’s edge as both listen and wait for the booming voice to return.

 **“Race complete,”** the voice rings out. **“Please standby for final judgment.”**

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Phil whispers.

“Nope,” Dan agrees.

Overhead a black grid box appears with each of their names followed by a column labeled Time. Dan and Phil stare as the dividing bar shifts right, leaving behind a trail of zeros. The boys lean forward, as if staring harder can make the outcome a perfect draw. But the scrolling continues until--

**“Player 1 Wins.”**

“What?!” Phil jerks back in shock.

“No!” Dan stares in disbelief at the second row. Zero point zero zero zero zero zero zero zero three. He beat Phil to the finish by such a miniscule shred of time The Doctor himself would struggle to find its usefulness. Painfully, he turns to his right and watches the second heart blink out and vanish from Phil’s life force. Phil beneath the display gone pale and silent.

The display board vanishes and a loud click echoes around them as the exit is unbolted.

Dan still cannot speak as he pulls himself from the pool and turns to offer a hand to Phil. _One life. He’s only got one life left. And then what?_ Phil is shaking as they both step towards the door and Dan does not remember grabbing a towel or the Iwatobi Swim Club jacket from the poolside but he wraps them both around his friend just the same. Hands working frantically up and down each arm to warm him. “Phil? Are you--”

 **“Cheating in Tabi will not be tolerated,”** the booming voice returns. **“There will be no draws in versus mode.”**

“What?” Dan steps back.

Phil looks up, eyes going wide as the row of heart containers appears over his best friend’s head. The middle heart blinking twice then fading away. He fights back the tears threatening to pour from his eyes and looks away. _One life. He only has one life left now._ “I want to go home,” he whispers to the floor tiles.

Beside him, Dan’s hand slips down, fingers wrapping around his and squeezing in reassurance. Grounding them both. “Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lives:  
> Phil - 1 Dan - 1
> 
> Influences for this level:  
> Show: Free! & London 2012: the Videogame  
> ____  
> The next few chapters should be posted faster. I was on vacation for a bit.


	5. X-Philes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's a redhead and it's not the only thing that's got him upset.

Dan and Phil step through the exit into the room beyond. The door slams shut behind them and disappears completely, startling them both. Dan squeezes Phil’s hand once more and leans closer; the new space is full of nothing but mist and darkness and he needs to feel safe. Phil fidgets with the towel in his hand only to find it has become a torch. A poorly lit, shitty torch which hardly illuminates more than an arm’s length in front of them.

“We’re back in a bloody forest,” Dan says, squinting ahead. Between the ghostly wisps of grey that nip around them, he can see the shadowy outline of trees.

Phil clears his throat and tightens his grip on their only source of light. “Should we, I mean, we need to move but.. where?” He whips the light around, but every direction looks just as promising as the next. Which is to say, not at all.

“Just.. umm..” Dan looks left and right again, then turns back where the door once stood. “This way,” he decides at random and pulls Phil along. “We should find a fence or a building or something. Maybe. I think.” He tries to sound confident. More for Phil than himself, but it helps all the same. Despite the dark and mist and sketch torch setting every alarm system in his mind on red alert, Dan surges ahead.

“There,” Phil scans the torch carefully back to their left and stops. Something flutters in the wind ahead and they slowly walk towards the small white square. Affixed to the trunk of a large tree they find an A4 slip of paper with one word scrawled across in messy black crayon:

**RUN.**

“Oh my god, no. Please, Dan. No.. tell me this isn’t..” Phil looks to the sky accusingly, “Oh come on!”

“Should we.. take it?” Dan reaches out but Phil jerks him back by their joined hands.

“No! Don’t touch it. That will just make you-know-who come after us!”

“He’s not Voldemort, you spoon. And we _have_ to take it. Remember how the game works? These are clues and we need to find all eight of them to win.”

“But if you take the paper--” Phil is cut off by broken radio static as Dan jerks free of his grip and rips the page down.

“Run!” Dan yelps, a squeak breaking his voice as he darts off into the darkness. Dan’s never been a fan of exercise, of any sort. Even the accidental workouts one gets running for the bus or reaching for a fallen remote. But there is one thing he hates even more: dark forests full of monsters determined to eat his face off. So he runs.

“Ah, Dan!” Phil yells and runs after him, “Don’t leave me!” Phil tries to keep the torch on Dan’s fleeing form, thankful the boy is now dressed in some sort of long jacket that flutters behind. As he catches up, Phil can hear Dan’s hurried steps crunching across gravel and dead leaves. But the eerie static has gone.

“Phil? Phil!” Dan jerks to a stop, turns and nearly collides with his friend. “Ah! Oh god, my heart. I think. I am going. To collapse,” he pants for air, leaning forward to clutch his knees. His knees which are now clad in trousers. Curious, Dan straightens up, no longer startled by wardrobe changes. “Philly, can you shine the torch over here a second?”

“Yeah, okay,” Phil steps closer, hovering the dim light source overhead.

The boys find themselves in full suits, complete with waistcoats and dress shoes. Phil in blue, Dan in charcoal grey. Topping off each is a long, beige trench coat and, as Dan finds in the weighted pockets, TABI badges. Dan opens his first, producing a choked giggle somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

“Dan Scully, Trans Atlantic Bureau of Investigation” he reads. “Oh hah hah. Wait--” Dan reaches for the torch and pulls his fringe down into the light. The hairs between his fingers are fiery red. “Oh come on, will you leave my hair alone already?!” He spins around and kicks at a tree in frustration.

“It’s not.. that bad?” Phil tries and fails to be reassuring. He tucks his own Agent Lester badge back into his pocket, messing with his new spiky fringe until it’s parted on the correct side.

“I think I saw a fence over this way,” Dan appears beside him, handing the torch back over. “Let’s just keep going.”

“Okay, yeah,” Phil agrees and shines the light where Dan has pointed.

They carry on in silence for a few minutes, eyes peeled for any sign of fence post or pages. After a few moments pass, Dan stops walking and leans forward squinting. “I think, is that a rock?” he points a bit to the right.

Phil follows the movement with his torch. A few meters ahead is a smooth outline rising above the mist. They edge forward and find a large boulder, at least twice as tall as Dan, sat alone in an open field and just a few inches from a rusted iron fence. “Oooooh, there’s another note. You do it. I can’t look,” Phil squeals and shines the torch on the corner of a white page taped the stone. He closes his eyes and turns his face away. “What does it say, Dan?”

“Don’t look back,” Dan reads.

“I’m not--”

“No, the page. It says **Don’t look back** ,” he corrects. Carefully, Dan reaches forward, fingers poised just above the taped edge. “Ready to run?” he asks.

“Yeah, but umm.. which way this time?” Phil opens his eyes and shines the torch up and down the fence.

“To the right, follow the fence line.”

“Okay,” Phil’s voice is shaking but he holds his torch hand steady.

“Go!” Dan shouts. The eerie radio static crackles behind them and he doesn’t stop to look. He just runs.

“Hurry, Dan! It’s getting louder!” Phil shouts, frantic legs stumbling to keep up. Adrenaline propels him forward, ears strained to discern Dan’s footfalls from the phantom threat trailing them. They run for what must be minutes but feels like hours.

Panting and out of breath once more, the boys come to a small wooden shed and pause. Dan holds his hand up and Phil takes shallow breaths. Two heads tilt in unison, listening for any sound of pursuit but the static has gone once more.

“Okay. We have located a building. Sort of,” Dan pats the wooden structure beside them. “There is usually a page inside or on the door. In the game at least. Assuming we are playing that particular hell game. But I need air before we take off running again.”

“Yeah,” Phil agrees, slumping against the side of the shack. “My stamina meter is literally in the red.”

“Literally,” Dan smiles and leans beside him.

After a moment of repose, their breathing steadies and with a small nod Phil agrees it is time to move forward. He lets Dan take the lead once more, staying just behind with the torch. They carefully walk around the small building and, after a few short minutes of searching, find another page secured above the shattered glass of a back window. Phil raises the torch’s beam only to frown when the light flickers and weakens. “What..” he strains his eyes to read the note.

“No time,” Dan says, reaching up, “Let’s go!” He pulls the page free and takes off running. The crumpled note joins the other two in his front coat pocket as he hastily stuff it inside, then Dan reaches blindly behind him for his flatmate. Phil somehow finds the seeking hand and holds tight as he is dragged along past fallen trees and toppled fence posts. The forest disappearing around them until all is mist and static and stars.

The static grows louder and closer, sending chills up Dan’s neck but he keeps running. No looking back. Until finally, the last bit of mist clears from view and the threatening crackle dies along with it. The boys find themselves stood in an open field dimly lit by the full moon overhead.

Their torch flickers again and Phil grips Dan tighter until it settles back to a steady beam. Dan spins them, looking around for something, anything. “This way,” he says, pulling Phil along.

“Do you see something?”

“I think, maybe.. There!” Dan yelps in excitement and takes off. His lungs and legs fight him every step of the way but he doesn’t want to be here, in the dark, any longer than necessary. The light in the distance is dim but growing larger. He holds onto the promise of hope and pushes forward.

“Oh, I see it. Er.. them,” Phil says as the mysterious light splits in two. He squints to see as they get closer, “Are those, headlights?”

“What?”

Sure enough, the glare of the twin lights reveals a military jeep. The automobile looks old, rusted and cracking at its joints. But the engine is running, rumbling in the silence around them. Steam rolling from under the hood. Headlights and taillights bright against the blackness of the open field.

“Well that is not creepy in the slightest,” Dan laughs.

“Not at all,” Phil agrees as they step forward. “Nothing creepy about an abandoned jeep which may or may not be possessed by Slender-demons.”

“Oh,” Dan fidgets his hand inside his coat pocket and pulls out the third sheet. Flattening out creases across the rumbling hood he holds the page where they both can see:

**Stay Together.**

The boys look to one another, smiling and knowing it didn’t take a message scrawled in black crayon to remind them of the one unspoken rule. Of course they would stay together. No matter the universe, no matter the circumstance. They are Dan and Phil, not Dan or Phil.

“Well there go all my underhanded plans to steal this jeep and abandon you,” Dan teases, poking Phil in the ribs.

“Can you even drive?” Phil laughs and dodges the ticklish digits.

Dan answers back with a loud laugh and walks around to the driver’s side door. It creaks loudly, hinges rusted with disuse and the effort takes both of them to pull it open. Looking inside, they freeze, Phil holding the torch up to illuminate what their eyes refuse to see. The inside of the vehicle is overgrown with weeds and wildlife. They watch in amazement as a grey squirrel darts out, running between them and chattering in annoyance as it disappears into the darkness. Back in the jeep, where there should be seats and floor, is naught but dirt and grass. And though the engine is running, there are no keys in the ignition. And no steering wheel. Instead, in its place, is another sheet of paper. More black crayon writing:

**Trust No One.**

“Wait,” Phil reaches forward to stop Dan’s hand. “There, on the corner..” Dan carefully peels back the folded edge to reveal more writing. Small red numbers in ink:

**2-0-0-9**

Phil looks up, “What--” the torch begins to flicker and dim. “No no no no,” he begs the fading light. Pleading in whispers as they both stare and watch, helpless, the battery gives out and dies.

“Oh god, I can’t. I can’t,” Dan whispers to himself. Despite the moon and headlights, it feels too dark now. Dan’s chest feels too tight, too hot. He leans forward, gripping the car door for support.

Phil shakes the torch, smacking it against the jeep but nothing works. With a resigned sigh he lets the broken beam fall and roll beneath the car. He looks up to find his flatmate doubled over, shaking. “Dan?”

“Ph--ffffffffffffffff,” Dan can’t get his mouth to cooperate. He lets one shaking hand fall to Phil’s knee, patting him to let the boy know he is listening. Dan tries to stave off the panic attack, but nothing is working. He can’t hum, he can’t breathe, he can’t think about any of the usual things that calm him. Everything is tainted now with the stink of this horrible game. “Hnnngaaaah!” he groans in frustration and crumples more into himself.

“Dan, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that? Nod if you can do that.”

Dan nods, a small tuck of the chin but it’s enough. Phil grabs the younger boy and pulls him forward into a hug. His hands working small circles into Dan’s back. His mouth whispering words of encouragement and reassurance. “There you go, that’s good, you’re doing real good. I’m here. You’re going to be okay.”

The silence around them goes still as Phil continues to dole out words of comfort, the game itself paused. Dan takes in calculated breaths, counting himself down from ten, face tucked into ridiculously sweet body wash and a hint of cologne at Phil’s neck. Phil, he decides, smells like home. _Home. That’s a happy thought. We will be back home soon_. Dan clings to it even as he loosens his hold on Phil and steps back. He immediately regrets the loss of Phil’s hands on him, but they stay close.

“That was.. Thank you,” Dan stammers to his shoes. He looks up and gets lost in familiar blue eyes staring back at him in concern. Phil the reliable flatmate. Phil the best friend. Phil the one person he can trust in any universe. Always here when he needs him most, always patient through his worst moments. Dan’s brain short circuits and he blurts out, “You’re amazing, Phil.”

“Dan!” Phil breaks out laughing.

“What?” Dan blinks and steps back further, face twisted in confusion. His mouth is moving, replaying the conversation in his head when it hits him. “Oh. Oh god! Shut up.”

“Phil trash number one,” Phil teases.

“Literally shut up or I will leave you here.”

“But Dan,” Phil whines, puffing out his lower lip in a pout, “the note says we should stay together.”

“Lucky you then. I always do what mysterious videogame notes tell me.” Dan sticks his tongue out and Phil answer in kind. They both devolve into soft laughter.

“Okay, umm, so..” Phil slips his hand into his right pocket, toying with the badge. He looks around. “Ready for another run?”

“Nope,” Dan answers with a smile.

“Yeah.. me neither,” Phil smiles back and reaches for the page. “Let’s go!” he rips the taped edge free and takes off running.

This time, they run with a renewed determination. A desire to escape. Survive.

The static that pursues them is just as persistent. Echoing in the air louder, closer. Phil can practically feel the long spindly fingers of their pursuer wrapping around his forearm. Pulling him back. Movement to his right draws his gaze down and he stops running. There are fingers. Actual long, pale fingers clutching to his jacket. “Ah!” he shrieks and tries to shake the grip loose. “Let go!” he gives one final jerk of his arm and tugs free, panicky and panting as the ripping sound of paper echoes around him.

“It’s me,” Dan says beside him. “Phil, it’s me. It’s just me.”

Phil gasps for air and folds over, clutching his knees. The last note crumpled between his fingers. “You scared me!” he tries to yell but can’t find the strength to be upset.

“I know, I am sorry. I just didn’t want to lose you.. it was..” Dan looks around, “It’s dark out here.”

Phil straightens back up and hands the torn page to Dan. His face goes soft in apology. “It’s.. I’m okay,” He smiles reassuringly and walks forward, waving Dan to follow, “Let’s get out of here yeah? I saw something over there.”

A few meters ahead of them is a tall metal fence. The top wound with woven rows of barbed wire and blinking yellow lights. Using the moonlight to guide them, they follow the fence line around. A soft rumbling breaks the silence, far off and growing closer.

“There!” Dan says, pointing ahead where the fenceline curls to the left.

A few meters beyond the turn they find another humvee. Abandoned, engine running and crashed through the fence, this one is just as rusted and overgrown with foliage as the last. Dan looks inside the driver’s side window but finds no note.

“In there, maybe?” Dan points where the car beams illuminate something inside the fence.

The boys climb carefully, over the jeep, following the headlights to a heavy door surrounded by cement and angled downward, a basement bunker entrance. It’s painted a pale green and stamped _T.A.B.I_. with an official looking seal beneath which reads _Trans-Atlantic Bureau of Investigation_. Scratched through the letters is a red line that trails off the doorframe. Phil leans closer and reaches out, tracing the line across peeling paint and over to the right where it ends in an arrow. Pointing directly to an electronic keypad mounted in the wall.

“It looks old,” Phil says. Running his fingers over rusted, fading numbers, “but these little lights are still on..” he tugs at the door handle to his left but it’s locked. “Awww.”

“Do you think?” Dan pulls the bits of torn paper from his pocket until he finds the folded corner with smudged red ink.

Phil steps aside and watches as Dan punches the four digits into the alarm system. With a loud clank a heavy bolt slides back and the door cracks opens.

“After you,” Dan laughs and steps back, gesturing to the door in an exaggerated bow. Phil shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Of course he’s going in first.

Inside, they are met with a long hallway, the white walls yellowed and muted in the glow of florescent lighting. With careful steps they make their way down, neither boy flinching as the door behind them slams and bolts itself shut. In this wretched game, of course it would. The silence that follows, however, is full of an odd crunching noise which echoes with every step.

“What is..” Dan looks down to find the linoleum is littered with bits of glass and black plastic.

“Must be the leftover pieces of those,” Phil says and Dan looks up to find him pointing to the ceiling. Exposed bundles of wires dot the hall every few feet. The remnants of smashed security cameras trailing up and down the hallway. Dan steps closer to where Phil is pointing to look at the hanging wires.

“Oh my god, your hair!” Phil sounds excited, like he’s just opened a Christmas gift and found a lion shaped house plant.

Dan can hear the smile in his voice and turns to give his best friend a lecture on how inappropriate the timing is to be teasing him about his locks. “Yes, we’ve established that my hair is now red, Phillip. Do pay attention.”

“No, I mean yeah it is, but the.. hobbit hair!“ his grin threatens to stretch his face in two. Phil reaches up and runs his fingers through Dan’s fringe. “I know you hate it, but your humid hobbit hair is so... cute.” Phil gently pulls a curl down and watches as it springs back up Dan’s forehead.

“Shut up,” Dan blushes and pushes his hand aside. “ Let’s… we have to keep moving.” He walks past Phil, avoiding his ridiculous smile and that damn face and the nagging feeling in his gut to just kiss the smug ass smile right off it. Phil giggles to himself but follows behind.

At the end of the hall, they come to a junction. Dan looking right and left and back right again.

“Should we,” Phil wants to say they should split up but he knows it is a terrible idea and stops himself. He looks to the left, the right, then back left again. Squinting for any hint but every detail looks the same.

“This way,” Dan finds Phil’s hand and pulls him to the left without another word.

They walk for a long while in silence, Phil trying to calm his breathing, hyper aware of just how warm and soft Dan’s fingers feel gripping his own. At the end of the hall, they hit a new junction. Dan stops, Phil coming to a halt beside him and both boys look up. Another bundle of wires hangs from the ceiling. One green wire dangling a bit lower than the others, weighed down by a security camera. The red recording light blinking.

Taped to the wall, just beside the suspended camera, is another page.

“ **They are watching** ,” Dan reads. He turns to Phil, concern scrunching his face. “Who the hell are they?”

Phil squeezes Dan’s hand in answer but his friend drops the hold and steps forward. Phil looks to the left and the right, trying to decide which way looks safest to run. He turns back to watch as Dan reaches forward, peels the taped edge, and pulls the note down.

The hall lights flicker immediately and radio static is back. Louder and closer than ever. Something catches his eye in the left hallway and Phil can’t help himself, he looks. Unblinking, mouth hung open, he is frozen in shock. An alien, an actual legit seven foot, pale grey skin, big black eyes with super skinny limbs is stood just beside them. Reaching forward. Phil can feel his eyes burning, begging to blink the vision away. Instead, he finds himself drawn forward. His hand moving on its own, reaching up.

Suddenly, he’s being pulled away. Dan’s hand back in his own, dragging him down the right hallway.

“Wait, wait!” Phil yells and struggles to pull them back, but Dan’s hold only grows stronger. “Dan, please!”

The urgency in Phil’s voice hits him and Dan stops cold. He looks back. Phil is tugging free of his grip and the terrified look in those blue eyes gives him pause. “Phil, what, what is the matter?”

“I saw, I.. I saw,” he looks over his shoulder and back to Dan, eyes wild. Free hand gesturing down the hallway.

“There’s nothing down there, Phil,” Dan says, looking past his friend at the empty hall.

“I saw..” Phil leans closer, “an alien,” he whispers the word. “It was..it.. it was.. “ he trails off and stops struggling, “it was right back there.” Phil goes weak, shock finally kicking in as he falls limp, leaning into the wall.

Dan loosens his hold but keeps a hand at Phil’s elbow to hold him upright. “Okay, Philly. Calm down, breathe, I believe you. Now tell me. What, exactly, did you see?” he asks cautiously, stepping back to give Phil space.

“I, umm..” Phil looks behind once more and shakes his head. “It was there, I swear. It was just like you would think,” he pushes off the wall and holds his hands above his head. “Tall, like really tall. Up here actually. And quite pale, grey skin, big black eyes,” his hands come down, twitching in between them, “and these.. long, weird spider fingers. It was real, I swear!” he flops back to the wall, resigned and exhausted.

“I believe you,” Dan’s voice is calming. He wants Phil to know he trusts him, but the hall lights are flickering and the thought of being trapped in a dark hallway with possible aliens does not sound appealing. “I believe you but we have to keep moving, okay?”

Phil doesn’t respond, just looks back down the empty hall once more.

“Okay?” Dan tries again.

“Yeah,” Phil agrees finally. “Yeah, okay.”

Initially, the right hall looks identical to those before. Endless white walls and disemboweled security systems. Until they come across frosted glass windows and a door.

Beside the gunmetal door is a small black plaque which reads _Exam Room 3_.

“What do you imagine goes on in there?” Dan asks, leaning to peer between the dented slats of mini blinds hung just inside the door.

Phil peers between the stripes of clear glass, looking for any sign of movement. The place looks vacant, an empty desk and chair all he can pick up from his limited view. “Fluffy kitten transplant surgery for kittens with too much fluff and not enough hugs?” he offers with a hopeful smile.

“Let’s hope so,” Dan laughs, giving the handle a try and finding the door is unlocked.

Phil swallows the lump in his throat and tries to calm himself as Dan slowly pushes the door open. They step inside the room and pause to look around. It looks like a medical examiner’s office. Small metal desk and chair to the left. Light boards for x-ray viewing and anatomy charts framed beside sanitation brochures and a small wall-mounted fire extinguisher. A row of exam tables in the center and on the back wall.

“Oh ffffffffffffff..” Dan stops moving. Eyes locked on the four neat rows of metals doors covering the back wall. This is a morgue.

“Dan?” Phil, too, has stopped moving. He has wandered to the left side to stand beside the last examination table. The only one with an occupant.

Dan joins him beside the lumpy mass hidden beneath a white sheet. “What do you think, I mean, of course, I’m going there. In my head. I don’t want to, you know I don’t want to go there, Phil, but I can’t just switch it off. So many bad thoughts going through there right now, you know? But...:” Dan reaches forward. “I have to know.”

“Nooo,” Phil covers his eyes and turns away. He can hear the soft linen shifting aside, followed by Dan’s startled gasp. And then.. laughter? “What? What is it, Dan?”

“Are you actually kidding me?” Dan says and Phil can no longer fight his gnawing curiosity.

“What is so --”

“Is this your alien friend?” Dan asks as Phil turns around to peek. One glance down and he, too, is doubled over in giggles. “No, no, that’s not what I saw at all.”

The body lying on the table is the furthest thing from terrifying. A giant, inflatable toy alien. Comprised of very shiny, very fake plastic. And the color is such a shocking green, somewhere between Mountain Dew and radioactive waste. Dan composes himself enough to take another look, then stops laughing completely.

Tucked just below the folded edge of the sheet, the edge of paper is so white, he didn’t see it at first. With shaking hands he pulls the sheet aside further, letting it fall completely to the floor.

Taped to the center of the false alien’s rib cage is a new page.

“ **Versus** ,” Phil reads the black lettering from beside him.

Dan reaches out, traces red ink on top of black crayon. “ **Co-Op** ,” he says, mulling the clue over in his mind. “It’s scribbled over so.. maybe we can.. change the setting somehow? I mean if this is a game and games give you clues, right?”

“I hope so,” Phil says. “I really want to go home, Dan. And I don’t want to fight you any more.”

“Same, honestly. I am so done with this place,” Dan smiles. “Ready to run some more?”

“As much as I can be,” Phil walks towards the door they entered and pulls the handle down.

Dan grabs the page and turns to run back out into the hall. But the static is back in full force now, higher pitched and so loud his head is ringing with the noise. It hurts. He doesn’t realize how badly until he blinks the tears away. Phil is stood beside the open door, hands clasped over his ears and yelling-- or mouthing-- he can’t really hear to tell if his friend is yelling, but his face is red and his throat looks strained with effort. Dan stuffs the page into his coat pocket, clamps his own hands over his ears and follows Phil out into the hall.

Where he crashes into his back. Phil has stopped, just outside the door.

“Phil!” Dan yells but neither boy can hear over the shrill ringing. He sidesteps and looks up to see what-- “Oh my god,” Dan mouths. Or screams. Even he isn’t sure anymore.

This time they both see the alien.

Stood not a meter away, just across the hall from the door, is seven feet of naked flesh. Unblinking black orbs staring straight through them. And one long, pale finger, pointing to the right. Pointing and not attacking.

Slowly, the static dies down to a soft whisper then vanishes altogether. Dan grabs Phil’s elbow, tugging him left. No way, on any planet, in any life is he just going to do what some evil migraine inducing monster alien tells him to do. Nope.

“Wait,” Phil says, pulling his elbow free. He leans forward, peering at the alien’s face. Curious. He looks up the hallway to the right. “I think.. they want to help?”

“Are you actually serious right now?” Dan sounds exasperated, trying once again to tug Phil back down the hallway.

“Hellooo,” Phil waves his hand in the alien’s face. “Mr. Slender Alien? Or umm.. Ma’am?”

“Oh my god Phil, don’t talk to it!”

“Dan--”

“No. Phil,no. You are so nice to everything. But this,” he points accusingly at the creature, “It’s not a pet, they want to eat your face and I,” he pulls Phil close, “am never going to let that happen.”

The alien looks up then, shaking its head and, “Did Slender Alien just facepalm?” Dan says, hint of annoyance in his tone. The alien stomps its foot and points once again, to the right.

“I think,” Phil says softly, “I think it’s really trying to help us, Dan.”

“I don’t trust it,” Dan whispers.

“Then don’t,” Phil whispers back, looking him in the eye. “But trust me?”

Dan looks between his flatmate and the creature. Closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. “Alright, alright, okay, but if I die, if I die, I will hold you personally responsible!”

Phil laughs and takes Dan’s hand. “Deal.”

Together they walk to the right, no longer running.

At the end of the hall is another junction and a new sign. A single white page taped inside the shattered remains of an old cigarette machine. Phil points to the page as an ‘I Told You So’ but does not say so.

** <\-- Hard Reset **

Both boys follow the arrow’s direction and look to the left. At the end of the hall is a folded yellow caution sign and construction tape in front of what look to be elevator doors.

Carefully, they walk towards the end of the hallway.  Stopping just before the taped up doors.

“There,” Phil points even as Dan is tearing the caution tape aside.  Just beneath, affixed to the doors is another page.

“Page number eight,” Dan says, pulling it down.  

“This should be the last one,” Phil sounds happy.  Relieved as he reads the final note.

**Basement 2**

“Of course.  Where else do horror survival games end?” Dan laughs, but there is no joy in his tone.  He creases the note in half and tucks it beside the others in his pocket. Presses the call button and waits.  Phil fidgeting beside him as the loud rumbling of an elevator car sounds below them.  Its arrival announced with a soft ding.  

The doors open and they step inside.

“Ready?” Dan asks, reaching forward to press the close door button.

“Ready,” Phil answers, shifting to stand closer.  

“Let’s go home,” Dan presses B2 and closes his eyes to pray the lights are on downstairs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... this one ran away with me too. It's longer than the last but I hope it was worth the wait! xx  
> ____  
> Lives:  
> Phil -1 Dan - 1 
> 
> Influences for this level:  
> The X-Files & Slender


	6. Heart Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh no. Oh no no no. This is not happening."
> 
> **Happy One Year Birthday Dan and Phil Games!**
> 
> \---  
> Spoiler Warning: This chapter refers heavily to plot points and characters in Death Note. Though there are no explicit spoilers, some things make more sense if you've read or seen it. xx

Dan opens his eyes to find Phil beside him, pulling a loose white tee over his chin. Blue eyes hidden behind long fringe, a 2009 throwback which has made a surprise reappearance. He looks adorable, hopping around on bare feet, rubbing them against the legs of loose fit denim and trying to keep warm. Dan smiles. Actually legit smiles at the whole scene before him.

Until something about Phil’s ensemble clicks and he looks down at himself. Khaki trousers. White button up. Red tie. Panicked, Dan looks back up to a spot over Phil’s head. He watches in horror as pale blue text swims into view. _Philip Michael Lester_ floating over a complicated mathematical formula he cannot decipher.

“Fuck.”

“What?” Phil stops hopping and pops his face out of his shirt.

“Phil, listen to me,” Dan grabs his flatmate by the shoulders and levels him with a serious look. “Whatever happens, you get out of here. Find me in the next level, but stay alive and stay away from me.” His eyes are wide, fearful, and Phil does not know how to respond so he just nods in agreement.

Dan backs against the doors and throws one last worried glance to the digits floating over Phil’s head. As soon as the lift hits the basement sublevel, he’s off like a rocket. Running blind into the room beyond.

Back in the carriage, Phil stares out after his fleeing friend, dumbfounded. He steps forward, watches as Dan vanishes around a corner. His red tie flapping behind. Something familiar with the image connects and Phil sucks in a gasp. “Oh,” he looks down at himself with new understanding. “Oh no.”

\----

Dan runs until his lungs protest. He pauses just long enough to make sure Phil hasn’t followed then collapses against the wall, ragged and panting. The hallway he’s run to is full of twists and turns and Dan has managed to get himself quite lost. Looking up, he catches movement to the right. A tuft of black feathers passing through his peripheral view into another hall. Sucking in one last gulp of air, he pushes off the wall and follows the mysterious bird.

Around the next bend, however, Dan finds the feathers are not attached to any avian friend but to the shoulders of a pale, leather-clad monstrosity, “Ryuk?”

Spiky hair whips around and the death god’s grin grows impossibly wider, “Master Howell, I was beginning wonder when you would catch up.”

“Can’t say I’m glad to see you,” Dan offers a sarcastic smile.

“Hungry?” Ryuk asks and tosses Dan a shiny red apple.

“No, thank you,” he hands it back and walks past Ryuk’s floating form. “Rather you told me how to get out of here honestly.”

“Suit yourself,” Ryuk snaps his fingers and the apple vanishes. “This way.”

They walk in silence for a long while, Ryuk weaving his way through the maze of halls and locked doors. Dan follows behind, processing the reality of his situation and wondering where to begin. Wishing he had his phone for distraction but settles for fidgeting with the tie. Ryuk hums the chorus of _Paint it Black_ and pretends not to read Dan’s mind. The boy’s thoughts are a jumbled mess of anime clips, music snippets, game references and Phil’s laugh. Always circling back to the boy with the blue eyes. Ryuk finds humans are quite fascinating in their heads. At the end of the next hall, Dan stops and opens his mouth to speak.

“It will do nothing to help you,” Ryuk interrupts.

“What?”

“Yes, I can read your friend’s life span . Yes, I can tell you how much time he has left. But knowing will not assist you in saving him.”

“I don’t care, tell me,” Dan insists. He looks up, defiant and angry but Ryuk saddles him with a soft expression, eyes full of understanding. “Please,” he adds.

“He has two hours left in this life.”

“No,” Dan’s voice is barely a whisper. He balls his fists, shaking with rage. “Where is it then?”

“I’m sorry Master Howell, but I am confused by your request. Where is what?”

“The book. The bloody Death Note!” Dan shouts, punching the wall beside them.

“Oh,” Ryuk perks up at the mention of his precious notebook but sighs wistfully. “This is not that type of game.”

“Then.. what? What game is this?” Dan steps back, scowling up at the death god hovering before him.

Ryuk leans closer, his jagged smile just inches away, and taps Dan’s front breast pocket, “It is this sort.”

Dan looks down and pats the pocket to find something stiff tucked inside. He reaches in and pulls out a single playing card. Solid black on both sides, save for the words _Death Note_ printed in white on the front.

“And just what the hell does this mean?”

“You will see. Come along now, time is short.”

Dan begins to protest but knows Ryuk speaks the truth. With a reluctant sigh, he slips the card back in his pocket and follows his guide down the maze of hallways.

\----

Phil has been walking for ages, his naked feet chilled on the cool tile. “I miss socks,” he bemoans to the emptiness, stopping a moment to rub his toes together for warmth. Looking left and right Phil chooses his next direction and pushes on. Determined to escape the game, or find Dan. Whichever comes first.

Working his way through the maze of white hallways and tall metal doors with no handles nor windows, Phil lets his mind wander to pass time. He imagines what sort of game they could be trapped in. Is it just this maze? Or is this part one of a more complicated puzzle? And at the forefront, if he is supposed to be L, then why doesn’t he feel like a super genius boy detective?

Face scrunched in deep thought, Phil doesn’t register the slick card now stuck to his heel. His next footfall slipping beneath him, catching himself with his face and a wall.

“Ow,” Phil groans with squished lips.

He pushes off the wall and bends down, peeling the culprit from his foot and flipping it over.

“Heart Attack,” Phil reads the top of the card, curious. At its center is an image of an anatomical human heart with jagged lightning bolts run through the right side. He continues reading, “Spell Card. Use one hundred life points to target any Monster on the playing field and send it to your opponent’s Graveyard. What?” He flips the card over but finds the back is solid black. Phil flips the card around once more, stares at the image of the heart and decides to keep it. Just in case.

Phil arrives at another junction in the maze and looks down each turn, deciding where to go next. A small, black rectangle just inside the left hall makes the choice for him.

Another playing card.

“Naomi Misora. Monster, FBI class,” he reads. “At the start of each turn, add one hundred attack power to every FBI class monster on the field.” The central image is a pretty young woman with cold eyes. At the bottom of the card Phil notes her attack is two thousand but her defense is zero. He looks back up to her eyes, they look sad. Phil adds the card to his front pocket with the other one and carries on down the hall.

A few moments later, he spots another card tucked beside a door frame. This one a spell card called Detection which grants him the ability to view his opponent’s current hand. And with a cost of zero life points.

“Well that’s nice, I guess,” Phil tucks the card into his pocket and notices another one taped on the wall a few meters down. He follows the trail, grabbing and reading each card in turn. After almost an hour of walking, Phil has located thirty-three cards, scattered about the halls like breadcrumbs and leading him to a large steel door. This one has a handle.

\----

“We are here,” Ryuk drifts to the right of a tall door, gesturing to the black card taped above the handle.

Dan reluctantly reaches forward and pulls the card down. “Shinigami eyes? But I thought, I mean I know I saw.. Doesn’t that.. Don’t I already have them?”

“As I have explained, this is not that sort of game, Master Howell.”

“I am so confused.”

“All will come to understanding, inside,” Ryuk waves his hand and the door handle shifts down. “I will remain beside you for assistance, but someone must come out victorious. Either by gameplay or forfeit.” The door swings inward and Ryuk floats through, waving Dan to follow.

Dan steps inside and immediately freezes. His mouth hung open in shock.

The room within is a large stadium, much more massive than the scale of the maze or external walls should have allowed. He finds they are stood on a balcony ledge overlooking rows and rows of empty seats below. Across the way is another door and similar balcony. To his right is a third platform with a long walkway, suspended by wires over the center of the space, leading across to another door. And a glowing red EXIT sign. Dan looks around, peering over the edge of the railing for any place to jump or climb across when Ryuk’s words register, “What do you mean forfeit?”

“In the event that your duel outlasts the timer, and Player two loses his life, you will win by forfeit.”

“What? No! I refuse.”

Ryuk sighs and shakes his head. He reaches forward, taking Dan’s left hand and holding it up between them. “Player two can only succeed by defeating Player one and for that to happen,” Ryuk snaps his fingers and a deck of cards appears in Dan’s open palm, “you must play the game.”

Before Dan can respond, the sound of a door opening across the room sounds out. The loud bang of steel against the wall hits him like ice in the chest. His heart sinks even before he hears that familiar voice calling out.

“Dan?”

“Yeah Phil, it’s me,” he shouts back. “I’m here..,” his voice trails off. The cards in his palm suddenly too heavy to hold.

Phil smiles brightly at hearing Dan’s voice. He perks up, running to the railing and waving across the arena. But his friend does not return the gesture. Dan looks crestfallen, his shoulders slumped in resignation. Phil lowers his waving hand to cup around his mouth and shout out.

“I’m sorry, I, I tried to find the exit,” Phil apologises. Guilt sending a hot flush to his cheeks and ice water through his veins.

“I know you did, I know,” Dan tries to smile, but he glances back up at the timer hovering like an albatross over Phil’s head and his voice cracks. “It’s not your fault, Phil. It’s this game.”

Phil catches Dan’s stare and looks up, “Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“How much time do I have?”

Dan gets flustered, words tripping over themselves to block the truth from escaping his mouth. “I don’t.. I’m sorry, I don’t know. I mean, I can’t read--”

“ **Duel will begin in five minutes,** ” the commanding voice disrupts, booming between them. “ **Players prepare your decks.** ”

All at once the entire arena quakes, seats below folding into themselves and pulling back to reveal a playing field. Dan steps back and watches as a large desk rises from the platform floor. Phil yelps across the way and he can only assume his flatmate is witnessing something similar. The sounds of sliding plates and cranking gears fills the pregnant pause between them and Dan can only hope Phil will not ask about his lifespan again. He does not know if he can look that boy in the eye and lie to him.

Shaking the thought aside, Dan walks forward and inspects the surface of his console. The center is illuminated in a soft blue light, a glowing play mat that resembles the field below. Each section lit up with text denoting spaces for his Deck, Graveyard, Spell and Monster cards.

“Are we seriously playing YuGiOh?” Phil shouts out.

“Looks like it, yeah.”

“But this isn’t fair at all, I don’t know how to play,” Phil’s voice trails off in a familiar whine and Dan can’t help the laugh that tumbles from him.

“Don’t worry Phil, I know as much as you do about card games.” Dan tries to sound reassuring. He really wants Phil to win but it’s a bit hard to throw a game you don’t know how to play. Unless.. “Ryuk?”

“No,” the death god drifts to hover beside him, arms crossed, mouth settled in a defiant line. “No, I cannot assist your friend in defeating you.”

“Okay.. One, stop reading my mind. It’s creepy. And two, why the fuck not?”

“Apologies, but I am assigned to you and you alone. As the bearer of the Death Note you--”

“So give Phil the Death Note then,” Dan decides, pulling the card from his pocket.

“I am sorry Master Howell, but this--”

“If you are about to say this is not that sort of game I swear to God..”

“I am sorry.”

Dan hangs his head, gripping the card in a balled up fist. He wants to crush it. Rip it into a million tiny pieces and burn every one. Anything, anything at all to end this. “Is there nothing?” he looks back up to find Ryuk has gone. Correction, he has moved to the console. Dan’s deck open and shuffling between long, pale fingers.

“You must play the game,” Ryuk answers, plucking the Death Note card from Dan’s white-knuckled grip and shuffling it among the others.

\----

Phil watches from across the room as Dan debates with empty space. Part of him knows what is going on, part of him finds it endearing. Familiar of all the times he’s caught Dan literally battling his own demons aloud. Rehearsing whole conversations. It’s so uniquely Dan and he’s struck with the reminder that this could very well be the last time he sees this side of Dan. Or any side of him for that matter. They are each down to one life now. Whoever loses is gone. Forever. “Dan!” Phil shouts across the arena.

Dan stops arguing and turns to find Phil leaning out over the railing, “Phil?”

“I want you to do your best, Dan!” Phil beams his brightest smile, puts everything behind it. Every ounce of love and thankfulness he feels for this lovely boy who moved in with him and changed his life forever, “I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a noob!”

Dan returns the smile. His eyes lighting up with excitement at Phil’s taunt, “Your mum’s a noob!” he teases back. His heart is racing, but he digs deep. Finds the strength to push forward and step up to the play area.

Overhead an alarm sounds out and the arena below is flooded in lights. A scoreboard appears on the center platform, just above the exit. They each begin with two-thousand life points.

Phil steps to his play console and pulls the collected cards from his front pocket. He shuffles the deck and settles it face down in the spot labeled _Deck_.

“ **Draw your first hand,** ” the booming voice dictates.

Phil looks down, confused until he hears Dan shout out. “Five cards, Phil. Your hand is five cards.”

“Thank you!” Phil says back. He pulls his top five cards and inspects them. Three are Monster-FBI type cards. Naomi and Raye along with his most powerful card, Soichiro Yagami. The other two cards are spell cards. Phil looks between them then back up to watch his friend.

Across the way, Dan’s adrenaline is wearing off and giving in to anxious fear. In his hand are two Monster cards, two vicious trap cards and a spell card. He doesn’t want to play any of them.

“Player one must go first, Master Howell,” Ryuk speaks beside him.

“Yes, you’ve said. I’m just.. I’m thinking, okay?”

“I understand.”

“Okay, let’s see.. Kira, big nope right there. Nothing good can come from that,” he shuffles the overpowered monster card to the bottom of his hand. “Misa-Misa also a big nope. She brings nothing but bad news. And then we have these lovely gems.. Deception and Heart Attack and what even is Ringo? Why is there an apple, Ryuk? Do I eat it? Is it just a food card?” Dan quickly scans the description. “Grants the dueler two-hundred life points each turn while the Spell is active,” he shrugs. “Not ideal, will make things a bit more challenging, I suppose. But, as it’s not an attack card, I’ll play this one.” Dan sets the card into his Spell field.

“ **Player one plays Ringo.** ”

The card lights up and an apple appears on the floor below. It’s bright red for a moment then blinks and flashes with the image of a skull before turning deep green. The stem peels back and a grey mist seeps from the top, snaking across the field to Phil’s side. Dan watches on in horror as the smoky trail swirls around Phil’s life counter. Two hundred points click down and the poison fog makes its way to Dan’s side, depositing the stolen life force to his own total. “Aww what the hell!” Dan shouts and bangs a fist on the table top. The platform shifts beneath his feet, moving him closer to the center of the field.

“Perhaps you should read the cards before playing them, Master Howell.”

Dan grumbles and answers with a scowl. “Perhaps you should shut up.”

“Very well,” Ryuk crosses his arms and turns away.

“Okay, stop shutting up and help me. You said--”

“ **Player two plays Tea Time**.”

Dan turns to watch as a stack of tea cakes appears on Phil’s side below. On top is a cup of tea which pours across the playing field and settles the entire floor in a soft steam. Something about the mist is mesmerizing and Dan has to fight a yawn.

“I bought us a little time,” Phil shouts out. “The card says it puts all monsters asleep for two turns.”

“Good thinking, Phil!” Dan smiles and gives him a thumbs up before drawing a new card from his deck. He frowns at the new selection and tucks the card into his front pocket before slamming another down.

“ **Player one plays Misa-Misa.** ”

Phil watches as the familiar blonde pops into existence below. Pigtails swishing about as she looks up and saddles him with a wicked smile before bursting into giggles. Her haunting laughter echoing in the empty arena. He sees the Ringo card steal another batch of life points but ignores it. The mist swirling around Misa is much more fascinating, slowly forming into a soft cloud which cradles and rocks the young pop star to sleep. “Yes,” Phil cheers softly to himself, proud his spell card worked.

He draws his replacement card and looks at his new hand. Another monster he doesn’t want to use, and yet. Dan played a monster card, perhaps he should as well.

“ **Player two plays Raye Penber**.”

Phil watches as the young investigator manifests below. Raye seems confused, looking around to inspect his surroundings even as the sleepytime steam sets to work. He is curled up and snoring within seconds. Phil relaxes, another turn down and no one got hurt.

Dan draws his next card and glowers at his hand. He shuffles the cards around hoping maybe a nice _Give-Phil-all-my-life-and-let-him-win_ card will show itself. No such luck. He selects a trap card, hoping it will not be activated but there’s no way to be sure. Dan sets the card face down and holds his breath.

“Raye will activate that particular trap, the sleeping spell is not strong enough,” Ryuk says behind him and Dan turns to glare at him.

“You tell me this now?”

“ **Player one plays Misdirection**.”

Dan’s card lights up and a phantom image of Kira appears on the playing field, shimmering and partially transparent. The hologram darts past Dan’s poison apple as it drains another two-hundred points from Phil and shifts his platform closer to the exit. Illusion-Kira heads directly for Raye, taunting him with a toe to the ribcage until the monster is roused awake. With a yawn and a stretch he looks up and jerks back. The phantom laughs and runs to Phil’s graveyard, sticking his tongue out in a childish taunt. Raye emits a low growl and gives chase.

“No!” both Phil and Dan yell in unison. But there is nothing they can do. A doorway with nothing but darkness beyond opens up and Raye follows the mirage inside. The tear in space vanishes and Raye is gone, swallowed whole.

Phil loses another three hundred life points and Dan feels like he is going to be sick as his platform shifts once more.

The round ends as Phil’s Tea Time card expires and blinks away. The steam clears and Misa begins to stir. Phil looks down at his available options, back at Misa, then selects a card and leans over the railing to watch.

“ **Player two plays Confinement.** ”

Misa lets loose a terrifying shriek as her arms and legs are swaddled in white straps. A straight jacket snakes itself around her entire body and pulls itself tight. She glares accusingly at Phil until opaque black shades slip down over her eyes. A bright red number three appears overhead and announcing that she will be out of commission for three more turns. Misa loses half her attack power as five hundred additional life points drain from Dan’s total.

“Nice one, Phil!” Dan cheers his friend on as Phil’s platform shifts forward.

“Thanks!” Phil yells back, “but I didn’t want to hurt you, though. Sorry!”

Dan waves the apology off. “It’s the game, Phil. We can’t both win.”

He draws a new card and looks down at his hand, frustrated. The board is cleared of monsters, for now, but Dan doesn’t have anything he wants to play. He shuffles between them, still in denial that these are his only options.

“I can’t win, I can’t keep doing this,” Dan hangs his head and braces himself against the console.

“Perhaps you should put the decision to chance?” Ryuk offers.

“No. No, I do not think that is the best idea. Think of another not bad idea.”

“You have to play--”

“I know,” Dan interrupts and steps back. “I know, okay?” He begins pacing, flipping through his hand once more. “I just don’t want to hurt him anymore.”

“Then perhaps.. they can assist you?” Ryuk points to the top card.

“Maybe…” Dan looks at Phil’s life points hovering just over one thousand, then back at his hand. “Fuck me...” he places the card and steps to the railing.

“ **Player one plays Yotsuba Group.** ”

Phil and Dan each lean forward, watching the floor below with bated breath. An octagon of light appears, a seam revealed in the floor as panels slide back. A large table emerges, surrounded by eight tall, leather office chairs. Each spins round and eight men in suits manifest. The conference of businessmen turns inward to the table’s center where a black book floats and mutter in low voices between themselves. They each nod in turn until all eight are in agreement.

“What did they just agree to?” Dan whispers to Ryuk.

“Oh, now this is fascinating,” Ryuk floats away to get a closer look.

“Thank you for that. Very helpful,” Dan leans forward, peering with squinted eyes at the floating book, trying to confirm whether it is the book he thinks. But he knows.. he knows.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning strikes Dan’s life counter and he loses half of his points. One of the cards from his hand flies forward and settles on the console, face down.

“What?! No, what is going on?” Dan yelps and struggles to lift the card, but it’s frozen in place. “Ryuk!”

Ryuk does not answer. One long bony finger presses to his lips to silence Dan then stretches forward and points back to the table below.

Blue sparks crackle in the center of the octagon and a shadow appears. The folded form of a person, unraveling before them. Long limbs, chestnut fringe and pale skin come into view as the sparks dissipate and Dan gasps. A familiar face smiles up at him, sending chills down his spine.

“ **Yotsuba Group summons Kira.** ”

 _“Kira?_ ” Misa pipes up,excitedly pulling at her constraints. The counter overhead drops from three to two and she starts humming.

“Phil!” Dan yells across the arena. “Phil, whatever happens, please.. just..” Dan’s voice breaks and he cannot continue the thought.

“What? Are you giving up already?” Phil yells back.

“But--”

“I’m not going down that easy, Howell. We’ve seen this show, we know how it ends,” Phil teases and places his next card down. He is glad for the distance between them, hoping it hides the fear in his eyes and the shaking in his limbs.

“ **Player two plays Wammy’s House.** ”

The played card lights up and a small structure appears below. All brick and glass, the illusion of a small home. A bright pink light emits from the frame of the front door and three chimes ring out. Phil watches in amazement as his deck rises in the air. Three cards light up in a pink glow then shoot forward, placing themselves face up on his console.

The same light strikes at his life points and he is down another three hundred. But Phil is preoccupied, too busy reading details for the three monsters added to his playing field.

“ **Wammy’s House summons Near, Mello and L.** ”

The front door opens and three boys tumble forward from the house. One blonde, one smaller child with stark white hair and bright eyes and an older boy in the back. The white haired child Phil recognises as Near elbows past the blonde, Mello. Pink light glinting across their pale hair and faces as the two pause to glare at one another. They walk to opposite ends of the playing field and face Dan’s side, eyeing Kira warily.

The last boy, L, stays on the front steps. His hands swaying at his sides as he rocks back and forth on bare feet. His black fringe covers half his face, but a smile peeks out as he looks up and meets eyes with their enemy. _“Long time no see,”_ he speaks. _“You look well, Yagami.”_

 _“As do you, Lawliet,”_ Kira responds with an answering grin.

 _“Is there no time for tea and cake first?”_ L asks, biting at his thumb and slowly descending the steps.

 _“None,_ ” Kira answers stiffly. He gestures to Dan and Phil watching overhead, _“I believe these two are saddled with a rather pressing deadline.”_ He lifts the Death Note and flips it open to a blank page, pen poised and waiting.

L turns to his left and right, nodding to his brethren in turn before lifting his hands and snapping his fingers. A flash of pink lightning cracks down and envelops the three summoned boys. Their forms merge on the playing field even as Phil looks back to his console and watches the three cards become one new card.

“ **Player two plays SPK.** ”

 _“Three hearts, three minds, one goal,”_ their voices speak in unison from one new mouth. _“We are the Special Provision for Kira.”_

 _“Oh ho,_ ” Kira laughs, _“I am rather special, aren’t I?”_

SPK responds with an attack, a flash of pink light lashing out in the form of a glowing net. But Kira is too quick and he dodges the spell. Misa hisses behind him as the net’s edge grazes her cheek and she takes damage. SPK attempts again with a hail of arrows, but Kira is too fast.

“Oh my god,” Phil covers his mouth, eyes going wide. He watches as Kira deflects each arrow with ease. Sending them one at a time to pierce eight hearts and destroy the Yotsuba Group. The men dissolve in a flash of light and screams and Kira is left in the aftermath, sitting atop the octagon table and flipping through his Death Note as if it is the most fascinating novel he has ever read.

Dan is left stunned and speechless in the wake of the battle. Each death costs him life and eight hundred points drop away from his total. Phil’s platform shifts closer to the exit.

“ **Ringo has expired.** ”

The green apple dissolves and vanishes from the field. Phil relaxes, a small fraction, but his health is still troublingly low.

Dan draws two new cards for his hand but before he can look at them a red light flashes and all four float down to the playing area. Kira selects one and flicks it to the Trap card area, face down. The remaining three cards return to his hand, but Dan cannot flip the one that has been placed on his console. “What the-- Ryuk, what is going on?”

The death god shrugs and turns back to watching the action below. Clearly no longer interested in assisting Dan when something far more fascinating is going on.

Misa fidgets in her bindings, the counter over her head dropping from two to one.

“ _Daniel is it?_ ” Kira’s voice pulls his attention and Dan stops struggling with the played card. “ _I suggest you leave things to me. I will make sure we survive._ ”

“I don’t want that though!” Dan yells down.

“What?” Both Phil and Kira ask in unison.

“I’m sorry Phil, but I don’t want to win. I can’t lose you again. I can’t watch.. Just please. Don’t ask me to do that again.”

“But Dan--” Phil’s voice sounds broken, exhausted.

“No!” Dan covers his ears and shakes his head. “Please, Phil. Just, please.. I need you to get out of here.”

Phil opens his mouth to protest but Kira interrupts.

“ _I do hope you have more than those three.. children.. in your wheelhouse. For your sake. Please don’t bore me, Philip._ ”

Phil glares and slams a new card down.

“ **Player two plays Naomi Misora.** ”

The beautiful young woman with the sad eyes manifests below. She looks lost and confused. Squinting at SNK and Kira. Inspecting their faces and frowning when she does not find what she seeks.

Phil waits but she does not use her special skill. He looks down and reads the card again, then checks his health points to find they are too low. “Awww…” he groans in a low whisper, hoping Dan cannot hear or see his disappointment.

Dan looks on in anticipation, hoping Phil’s confident body posture means the boy has finally conceded to win and pull out his best moves. But nothing happens. The woman just stands there, looking around like she is waiting for a bus.

With one eye on Kira, Dan makes his next move. Carefully he reaches forward, card in hand, and slips it on the console in his Spell spot.

“ **Player one plays Heart Attack. Please state your target monster.** ”

“I choose Kira,” Dan speaks out with a confidence he did not know he possessed and glares down at the playing field. One hundred points drop from Dan’s total as the card emits a harsh green light. The sound of a flatline screeches through the arena and the light shoots forward.

Without looking up, Kira flips his Death Note open and begins writing. The final pen stroke is a flamboyant swish that flies off the page and stops the green bolt midair.

Suddenly, its trajectory turns ninety degrees and heads across the field, striking SNK. The mutant hybrid shrieks in agony, clutches its chest and tumbles to the ground where it breaks apart into three boys once more. Near is cold and lifeless, white eyes locked on the ceiling above. Beside him, rigor mortis has frozen Mello into the fetal position. Stood behind them is L, hand clutching his white tee and staring at Kira with a look of pure betrayal. The green light of the spell strikes out at him once more and L collapses to his knees. _“Light..”_ he reaches forward as the attack whips out a third and final time. The flatline fades away and all three members of SNK vanish from the playing field. Whammy’s House crumbles to dust and Naomi jumps back from the rubble, frightened and shaking.

Phil’s mouth hangs open in shock as three hundred life points drain from his total and Dan’s platform shifts closer to the exit.

“FFfffffffffffffffffff..” Dan cannot form words. Not even one syllable perfectly-express-how-I-feel words. He lashes out at the console instead and flips the bird at Kira as that red eyed jerk taunts him with a grin and a wink.

“ **Player two plays Soichiro Yagami.** ”

 _“Fuck,”_ Kira says the word for him and Dan steps to the railing to watch. He can’t hide his smile at hearing the fear in that voice and smirks down at the monster in triumph. Dan knew Phil would pull through. Phil can do anything.

Blue smoke swirls onto the playing field beside Naomi. A large shadow blinks into focus and unfurls, revealing a middle aged man. Soichiro pushes his glass up his nose and runs a thoughtful thumb across his moustache as he surveys his surroundings. His face is marked with worry and sleeplessness but saddled with a serious expression. As he finds his son stood across from him, Soichiro pauses. Eyeing Kira in unfettered disappointment.

 _“Light, do not hurt this young man any longer,”_ he says, gesturing up to Phil.

Phil swallows the lump in his throat and stares down at his played card. Soichiro has maximum defense, all nines. He just hopes it is enough to protect him from whatever comes next.

 _“Light doesn’t live here anymore, old man.”_ Kira smiles and snaps his fingers, activating the trap card from before.

“ **Player one plays Deception.** ”

A circle of lit candles emerge on the playing field. The dim lights flicker and a mist swirls in from Phil’s Graveyard. Shadows dance about, casting illusions and ghosts across the arena.

The wispy form of Raye Penbar floats forward. _“Naomi? Darling, can you hear me?”_

 _“Raye?”_ Naomi perks up, looking around. _“Raye, where are you my love?”_

 _“I’m right here, right in front of you,”_ Raye sounds worried as he moves closer. Waving his hand just inches from his fiancee’s face.

 _“Raye? It’s dark, I can’t see you.”_ Naomi steps forward and walks through the illusion of her lover.

 _“I’m here!”_ Raye cries out, frantic, but Naomi keeps walking in circles.

 _“I’m scared,”_ Noami is close to tears. _“Please Raye, I miss you. Make it stop,”_ she collapses. Curling into herself, a tight ball of shaking limbs and white knuckles.

 _“Naomi, no,”_ Raye reaches out but his hand passes through her shoulder.

 _“It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.”_ Naomi begins rocking, chanting to herself, faster and faster until she starts to glow. A bright fireball of energy coiling inside her.

“ **Naomi uses Self Destruct.** ”

“No!” Phil shouts out in disbelief. A loud crack sounds just seconds before the explosion. He dives behind his console and covers his ears as a blast of heat passes overhead.

Dan shields his eyes, and turns away from the blast. He can feel scratches ripping into his neck and cheeks, debris fly past his face as the arena is filled with the strong smell of smoke and burning paper. Dan drops his hands and looks across the stadium, squinting through smoke, his heart threatening to hammer free of his chest. “Phil!” he yells out. “Phil are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Phil stands up from behind his console, brushing ash from his hair. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Dan lies. He steps forward on wobbly legs and collapses into his console for support.

Phil carefully makes his way back to the railing to look below. The smoke has cleared and though a few rows of seats have been singed, the arena is still intact. But his side of the playing field is empty. No more house, no more Naomi and no more Soichiro. He is stood bare and defenseless with less just a few hundred health points left between him and death.

Phil walks back to his console, picks up the cards he dropped in his haste and draws another.

With trembling hands he places the Spell card and closes his eyes. Focused breaths and internal monologue running a constant stream of reassurance, Phil tries to remain calm.

“ **Player two plays Safe House.** ”

A blue hexagon appears on Phil’s side below. Rising from the floor, it rotates, reflecting light and revealing a smooth glass surface. The geometric pane begins to spin and flip over itself, creating duplicates. Each flipping and copying up and over Phil’s half of the arena until he is fully shielded in a glowing dome of light.

Phil let’s a sigh slip free. For the first time in a long while, he actually feels safe.

 _“Oh no, poor Philip,”_ Kira laughs. _“You don’t think that’s going to save you, do you?”_

“What?” Phil looks down at the mocking monster smiling up at him.

 _“Deaath Nooooote,”_ Kira sings out, waving the book in his hands.

 _“Silly Philly,”_ Misa joins in the sing-song mockery as her timer ticks down and the bindings drop away. _“Nothing can stop a Death Note.”_ Mobility renewed, she joins Kira’s side, pulling her own notebook out and waiting for orders.

“Fuck,” Dan begins pacing beside his console. He draws a new card but it’s useless.

“Perhaps--” Ryuk begins.

“I know. Fuck. I know,” Dan nearly growls. He stops pacing and swallows the lump in his throat. With a nervous hand he pulls the card stowed in his breast pocket and stares it down. There are no instructions. Just chance. A chance he has to take.

“ **Player one plays Death Note.** ”

Phil gasps and presses his face to the glass to watch.

Kira and Misa look around the arena, fear stricken. A large version of the Death Note appears before them and opens like a door.  A sickle peeks from the fanned pages followed by the pale fingers gripping its handle. An entire arm pushes through. Then black leather straps, a tuft of feathers and the sharp toothed grin of death itself.

“What?” Dan looks to his right and finds Ryuk is gone. The manifestation below is not an illusion.

Two shrieks are cut short and he looks back. Kira and Misa are gone. Ryuk collects the dropped notebooks and secures them into his pocket before returning to Dan.

“Th-- that was.. umm. Thank you. Really, I mean it. You--”

“Do not thank me just yet,” Ryuk says and draws Dan’s attention back to the playing field.

The summoned Death Note remains, a counter overhead clicking down from three to two to one.

Phil jerks back from the wall as his platform shifts forward. Dan’s health points drop off swiftly until he is left with just one and Phil finds he is almost to the exit.

Dan isn’t even paying attention. He is still stood frozen and staring at the played card, glowing a soft red on his console. “Ryuk?”

“Yes?”

“Why does the Death Note have a counter?”

“The Death Note will kill all living entities. It has ended two lives and now all that remain is your friend. His time has come to an end.”

“But! I mean that’s not fair, is it? This card doesn’t have a fucking description. Even the real Death Note has instructions! I wouldn’t have played it if you told me that. This whole match has been rigged from the outset! Hasn’t it!?”

“I--”

“Phil!” Dan shoves past Ryuk, no longer caring to listen to anything he has to say. “Phil, do you have anything that can end a spell or break a spell? Any card?”

“Umm, I don’t know, let me see.” Phil flips through his hand reading the cards out quickly. “Teru, he’s a monster card but no special skill, umm, I have a Heart Attack card but it only works on monsters. Oh!” Phil holds up a card before remembering Dan can’t actually see it. “This one, Dan. Shinigami Eyes. It says it can reveal the weakness of any played card, any type.”

“Shinigami Eyes,” Dan paces, thinking. He remembers he has the same card and pulls it from his hand to read the description.  “Okay,” he grins with excitement. “Okay,  Phil play it on the Death Note and I will, hopefully, have a card that can attack its revealed weakness. This fucking game keeps trying to prevent us from playing together, but we don’t work that way do we?”

“Nope,” Phil grins and places the card on his console. “Time to get a taste of Dan and Phil Games you stupid book.”

“ **Player two plays Shinigami Eyes. Please state your target.** ”

“We choose the Death Note,” Dan and Phil say together, each leaning forward to watch.

Phil’s card lights up in an orange light as a similar glow sparks below. Tiny flashes of light encircle the Death Note. The black notebook begins to shake and smoke, a thick billowing trail flowing from the open pages and choking their view until all is engulfed in flames. The arena below quickly fills with the smell of fire and Dan steps back, shielding his mouth and nose from the soot and ash.

“Fire, Dan. It must be weak to fire,” Phil yells across to his friend. “Check your hand.” Phil relaxes against his glass prison. Breathing in small gulps. Thankful the smoke cannot reach him, but worried for what comes next.

“Okay, yeah,” Dan answers and begins shifting through his cards, reading each description intently. He looks up to ask Ryuk for help and notices the death god has vanished. “Where--”

A shrill cackling rips through the arena.

Dan’s head jerks up to find Phil staring across in concern. In unison they run to the edge of their platforms and look below.

 _“You. Stupid. Humans. Never. Learn.”_ The disjointed taunting voice is vaguely familiar and Dan leans forward, watching the smoke clear.  The Death Note has burned to a pile of ash and in its place stands a shock of blue hair, white bandages and a terrifying yellowed smile.

“Rem,” Dan’s voice is barely a whisper. His mouth falls open in disbelief and Ryuk reappears beside him.

“I am sorry, truly,” he is gone once more.

“Dan!” Phil shouts out, banging on the glass. “Was that Ryuk? Can he helps us?”

“Yeah, I-- wait. Why can you see him?” Dan’s eyes go wide and he cannot look away.

Rem is stood just behind Phil, scythe poised. But Dan’s mouth has gone dry. His voice has abandoned him. And he cannot yell out a warning.

The sickle slices down and Phil is struck with a flash of lightning. He grabs at his chest in pain, doubles over and goes still. The remaining heart appears overhead, blinks out and disappears. Phil’s life points trickle down to zero and Dan’s platform makes its final shift forward to the exit. But he stands frozen in place.

**“Player one wins.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: no major character deaths but Dan doesn't know that. My poor son. :(  
> \---  
> Lives:  
> Phil - 0 Dan - 1
> 
> Influences for this level:  
> Death Note & YuGiOh!


	7. Best Phriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One With the Five Side Quests

_Phil looks so small_. The singular thought holds focus for a moment and Dan stops shaking, blinking back tears. His eyes follow the death god, floating across the small gap between platforms. Phil’s body, cradled in the arms of his executioner, passes before him and Dan thinks he is going to choke on his own tongue if he tries to breathe. Without so much as a word of goodbye, Rem slips through the exit and disappears.

Something snaps inside him and Dan jumps to the platform, chasing after them. He wrenches the door handle but it won’t give.

“I won! You said I won now let me out!” he finds his voice swaddled in rage. Dan beats on the door, kicking and yelling. “Bring him back you fucking monsters! Bring him back!” His left knuckle collides with the steel at a rotten angle and the pain is instantaneous.

“Fuck!” Dan jerks back, cradling his fist.

He can’t stop the tears this time. Phil is... Phil is gone and he’s alone. Stuck in a hell game with no foreseeable way to get home. Not that he wants to imagine what home will be like now. Without Phil’s laughter. Without his smile. And his silly animal voices and his exceedingly endearing addiction to houseplants and sweets. Dan’s head falls forward in resignation, the cool steel of the door growing warm beneath his quiet sobbing. He wonders if he has been left to die here. Doomed to suffer in eternal damnation for murdering the one person who trusted him most. The small voice in the back of his mind says there are worse things. _Dying could be--_

“Who is it?”

Dan jerks away from the door, confused. The industrial metal from moments ago has become solid wood, painted in green. He spins about and finds he is now stood in a carpeted hallway, peppered with identical doors numbered from forteen to twenty. At the end of the hall is a lift and a staircase. “Umm.. Hello?” he answers back.

“Yes, hello, who is it? What do you want?” a voice asks from the other side.

“Umm.. My name is Dan Howell, and I--” he pauses, wondering how much he should try to explain to a voice through a door. “I’m looking for my friend.”

“Yeah, sure,” a shadow passes over the peephole. “One minute.”

Dan steps back, listening to a series of bolts and chains unlock. He stops rubbing his knuckle and looks down to find his hand no longer hurts.

Before he can wonder for long about game physics and healing powers, a man opens the door. Tall, handsome, with a chiseled jaw and neatly gelled black hair. He has soft puppy dog eyes and Dan can’t believe the world he’s stepped into. “Joey?”

“Yeah!,” the man furrows his brow and purses his lips, “Waaaaait.. do I know you?”

“Uh, no, sorry. I believe I am lost. I think,” Dan falters. There is no way he is stuck in a _Friends_ episode.

Joey steps back and looks Dan over. This strange kid stood here in black skinny jeans and stud earrings and a funny t-shirt covered in dogs. He pauses, squinting at the boy’s face, wheels turning until something clicks and Joey snaps his fingers in excitement. “Yo Chandler!” he shouts over his shoulder and steps back to wave Dan inside, “we got another one!”

“Another what?” the man Dan can only assume is Chandler yells from the back of the apartment.

“One of them dudes, you know, with the funny hair and the James Bond accent. Just get out here.”

“Oh,” another man appears from the back of the apartment, drying his hands on a towel. His hair is softer but his jeans and button up are unmistakably from the nineties. “Hello. You must be Dan,” he holds his hand out in greeting and switches to a bad English accent, “Bing, Chandler Bing.”

“Umm yeah, nice to meet you,” Dan blinks in amazement for a moment before shaking. “Wait.. You said another.. did you see someone? Was he-- Oh!,” Dan pats his jeans and squeaks in excitement to find his phone back in its usual pocket. He pulls it out, swipes to unlock and holds the screen up to show his wallpaper. “Was this him? The one in blue?”

“Yeah, that’s the guy,” Joey points at the weird flat screen. “Paul, right?”

“Phil,” Chandler and Dan correct beside him.

“Yeah, Phil. That’s what I said,“ Joey turns and huffs. “He was just here a few minutes ago. Helped us move some boxes. Real nice guy, wouldn’t even let us pay--”

“He’s alive?!” Dan shrieks. Ecstatic, grabbing Joey by the shoulders and shaking him. “Phil is alive?!”

“Woaaah hands off. Of course he’s alive,” Joey pulls out of Dan’s grip and backs away. He straightens his jumper and gives Chandler a raised eyebrow as his roommate steps closer. “We don’t make it a habit to open the door for no zombies,” Joey nods to himself.

“Right, well, sound advice,” Dan tries to speak around the smile breaking across his face and bringing color back to his complexion. “So, I umm, I will be glad to let you get back to.. whatever. But, seeing as Phil is no longer here, do you happen to remember where he went?”

“Yes,” Chandler answers, voice falling monotone. He has frozen beside Joey. A pair of cold eyes and locked smiles stood in the center of the apartment.

“But first we need your help,” Joey adds.

“What the..” Dan trails off and walks around the pair of men, inspecting them. Hovering between them is a glowing red exclamation point. He waves a hand in each of their faces but they have become statues with unmoving eyes. “Okay this is starting to get a bit weird. Well, weirder.”

“Will you help?” Joey asks once more and green text floats into existence between them.

  * **Of course!**
  * **Sorry, I don’t have time.**
  * **No, I refuse.**
  * **Nevermind.**



Dan’s eyes go wide in realization. He’s played countless games with text options and if he’s learned anything it’s that you help everyone. Always.

“Of course!” Dan answers, trying to match the enthusiasm of his chosen words. _Anything to find Phil._

“Cool!” Joey replies with a smile and the hovering notifier turns into a yellow question mark. “Our friend’s pet monkey, Marcel, has gone missing. Please search the building and bring him back here before Ross returns.”

“The whole building?” Dan snaps, incredulous. If memory serves, the apartment complex is several stories high.

“He was last seen on the fire escape,” Chandler points to a large window across the room.

“Thanks,” Dan sighs in relief and crosses the room. The window frame lights up in a yellow light as he approaches, a flashing glint at the latch. He laughs. _Thank god for game hints._ Dan unlocks the window and climbs outside, looking right and left for his next clue. He doesn’t have to look far as the ladder to the roof is glowing in the same amber light. In a moment, he is stood atop the highrise and making his way to a glowing air vent. Inside, he finds the light source is a crate of bananas. A stifled giggle escapes and Dan reaches inside, grabbing one from the bunch.

“Marcel?” Dan calls out, looking around for his next hint, “I’ve got a lovely treat for you.”

A muted squeak sounds to his left and Dan follows the noise. At the next turn, he finds a small capuchin monkey huddled by the fire exit door. He slows his steps, inching closer with outstretched hand, tempting the animal with his banana. (Dan realizes just how bad that’s going to sound when he explains this later.)

“Here you go Marcel,” Dan whispers in his most approachable tone. The monkey stills and looks up at him. “You must be cold. Let’s go back inside, okay?”

Marcel answers with a tilt of the head and a curious chirp. Dan stops and waits. He holds his breath, watching as the monkey slowly edges forward. A cautious eye on the banana.

In a blink, Marcel snatches the fruit and runs up Dan’s arm, perching on his shoulder. A chime sounds out from overhead and he is instantly back downstairs in the apartment.

“Woah,” Dan flails about, regaining his balance from the sudden move.

“Marcel!” Joey cheers excitedly behind him, and Dan turns to find the flatmates have regained animation. The question mark between them transforms into a bright green checkmark then fades away.

“Thanks so much buddy,” Chandler says, clapping Dan on the shoulder. “Here, for your troubles,” Chandler smiles and hands Dan a small flathead screwdriver.

“Yeah.. uh.. no problem,” Dan offers a smile and slips the odd gift in his pocket. “So, about my friend?”

“Oh yeah,” Joey snaps his fingers and points to his front door. “He went across the hall to Mon’s.”

“Thanks!” Dan can wait no longer. He quickly says his goodbyes and runs out into the hall, knocking on Monica’s door a bit too loudly. A beat, a pause. No one answers. He knocks again. “Hello?” Dan tests the knob and finds the door unlocked.

He lets himself inside the familiar apartment, taking a moment to appreciate the reality of what he’s seeing. The familiar open livingroom, two bedrooms, cozy dining area and a large window overlooking the city. Stood just inside the kitchen, frozen beside her table and staring blankly, is Monica Geller. Her short dark hair tucked neatly under a chef’s hat. Arms poised over a cutting board, celery and knife in hand. A glowing red exclamation point floating overhead. Dan cautiously steps forward, looking between her eyes and the hovering action notifier.

“Monica?” he asks.

“Oh hi,” Monica blinks and resumes chopping. “Didn’t hear you come in. How can I help you stranger?” She drops the diced celery into a large pot and switches to an onion.

“Hi. I’m Dan,” he waves awkwardly. Unsure if the knife wielding woman is expecting a handshake. “I was told,” he gestures over his shoulder to the open door, “that is.. Joey said my friend was here. My best friend, Phil. Have you seen him?”

Monica looks up and squints at Dan, head tilting as she inspects him. “Tall fellow? Black hair like yours? And a James Bond accent?”

Dan grins, trying so very hard to contain his excitement, “Yes!”

Monica resumes her work and for a long awkward pause, Dan doesn’t know what to do with himself. He fidgets beside the table, waiting. Watching the exclamation point over Monica’s head bob with her movements. “Oh!” he snaps his fingers then looks down at his hands, confused as to why he’s done that. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Actually,” Monica smiles and stabs the knife into the cutting board. “I could use your help with something.” As soon as the words leave her mouth green text appears over the table.

  * **Anything. Anything at all.**
  * **I really need to find my friend first, please.**
  * **Depends.. what is it?**
  * **Nevermind**



“Anything. Anything at all,” Dan answers without hesitation. Every moment wasted is a moment without finding Phil. He watches the glowing exclamation point morph into a yellow question mark.

“I have my hands full catering Ugly Naked Guy’s family reunion this afternoon. But I seem to have forgotten some of my ingredients. Please run down to the shop and fetch them for me?” Monica hands Dan a list of groceries.

“Okay, yes, but where--”

“There’s an elevator in the hall you can use,” Monica picks up the knife and points back to the door.

“Right. Thank you,” Dan answers but Monica has resumed chopping.

Out in the hall he finds the lift, lit up in the same golden light from before. As he approaches, the doors open for him. But when Dan steps inside, he sees the control panel is a bit unusual. Where one would expect to find numbered buttons for each floor of the building, he finds five long rectangular push buttons. Labeled from top to bottom as _Apartments, Shops, Park, Airport_ and _Exit_. Dan’s hand hovers a moment over the _Exit_ button but pulls back with a frown as he realizes only one of his options is backlit.

“Shops it is then,” Dan presses the switch. In a flash and a ding the doors open and he is on the ground floor without so much as a hint of descent. On unsteady legs he steps forward and looks up the pavement. To his left is a busy bakery called _Baker’s Hudson_ , a small newsstand with magazines sporting the latest in American headlines from the nineties and what appears to be an antique bookstore. To the right he sees the familiar front window of _Central Perk_ and beside it a green awning that merely says _Grocer_.

Turning right, Dan pauses a moment beside the large glass window, wondering if he has time to spare for a comically oversized latte. But logic wins out over his grumbly tummy and he moves on, passing through the automatic doors of the shop next door and snatching up a red basket. He pulls Monica’s shopping list from his back pocket and sets to work.

“Two bulbs of garlic, one can of sweetened condensed milk and one bag of large marshmallows,” Dan reads out. “Sounds simple enough.”

He makes quick work of the shopping, panicking a moment when he gets on line for the checkout and wonders how he is meant to pay. It seems his phone was the only item teleported into his pockets. But the grocer simply takes the list from his hands, smiles and waves him through the exit. Before he can turn to ask if there has been an error, Dan hears a small chime and he is back upstairs in Monica’s kitchen.

The chef stands frozen behind her table as before, hands poised over a partially dressed chicken. The notifier over her head morphed into a green checkmark.

“I’ve returned with your items,” Dan waves and steps forward.

“Ah great, you sweet boy. Thank you!” Monica beams and takes the shopping from his hands. In exchange she gives him a handful of bobby pins from her apron pocket. The checkmark overhead fades away and she resumes trussing up the chicken’s legs.

Dan waits patiently, fidgeting with the hairpins and biting his lip when he finds himself about to start humming. Instead, he clears his throat.

“Oh!” Monica looks up surprised. “Did you need something else?”

“My friend, Phil?” Dan asks, trying to keep his voice calm. He slips the rewarded pins alongside his screwdriver and waits.

“Oh, sorry, god I don’t know where my mind is today,” Monica laughs, wipes her hands on her apron then points to the front door. “He went to work with Rachel.”

“Thank you!” Dan rushes to the door then pauses and turns back around, “Central Perk or Ralph Lauren?”

Monica looks confused a moment then tilts her head, looking at Dan as if he’s gone mad, “Central Perk, of course. It’s downstairs, big glass window, can’t miss it.” She returns to her work, laughing and muttering to herself, “Ralph Lauren, of all the crazy things…”

Dan considers trying to explain but there’s no time. With a final word of thanks and farewell he rushes back to the lift and down to the street.

Back outside, Dan makes a beeline for the large glass window and peers inside. Cupping the sun from his eyes he squints beyond the glass. It feels a bit exciting being this close, like trespassing on a movie set. He grins, scanning over the all too familiar sofa bathed in soft yellow lighting. But each table and chair is vacant. The small black chalkboard to his left confirms Dan’s suspicions, the cafe is closed. Hopeful, he tests the doorknob. Locked.

 _Phil has to be in there though, or at least someone who’s seen him_ , Dan reasons and spins around, looking for something to smash in the window. But just as he’s about to lift a large metal bin from the pavement, an idea clicks and he rushes back to the front door.

Dan retrieves the pins and screwdriver from his pocket and falls to his knees for a closer look, “I’ve always wanted to try this.” He grins, a bit manic and overexcited. Just below the doorknob is a simple key-entry lock. If his memory serves, bobby pins break easily and limit his chances to trip the lock. He counts five in his palm, giving him just five attempts to get in.

But five is plenty for a seasoned pro with hundreds of hours of _Skyrim_ logged to his name. It takes just three snapped pins and a few muttered curses before he hears the click of success. Dan pushes the door open carefully, every creak of the hinges echoing in the abandoned cafe. “Hello?” he calls out, just above a whisper.

A pause. Then the muffled sound of metal scraping against metal hits his ears and every terrifying demonbeast from _Silent Hill_ floods his memory. Dan stills, ears strained as his eyes scan the room for weapons and a place to hide. The scraping rings out again and he flinches. For a moment the entire room feels locked in time, Dan’s racing heart the only evidence of life. But nothing comes to kill him.

Then the humming starts.

It’s soft and gentle if a bit off key. The song is familiar and all at once his mind is distracted from murderdemons as he tries to place the tune. Mid nineties, pop, probably a boy band, possibly a solo act, former group career. His body relaxes and Dan edges back behind the counter, towards the mystery melody.

He steps over the sticky spill mat, pushing past a thick green curtain and a small _Employees Only_ sign. The scraping of metal on metal growing closer. Just past the hand washing station, Dan stops and sighs in relief. In the back room he’s found Rachel pulling baking trays from the oven, headphones on as she hums and sways to music only she can hear. For a moment he doesn’t want to interrupt or startle her. But as Phil is nowhere to be seen, rudeness must abide.

“Excuse me,” Dan tries a wave of his hands, trying to catch her eye. “Rachel?” he tries a bit louder. Nothing.

“Hellooo!” he yells, finally.

“Oh!” Rachel jumps, nearly dropping the tray of muffins in her hands. It clatters to the countertop as she turns and throws a hand over her heart, “Oh my god.”

Dan clamps a hand over his mouth, face flushed in guilt. “I am so so sorry,” he mumbles out apologies through his fingers, brow knitting in concern.

Rachel pulls her headphones free and wipes floury fingers on her apron, “Can I uh, can I help you with-- actually wait. How did you get in here? We don’t open for another hour.”

Dan panics, not knowing where to begin. He holds his hands up to show he means no harm, stepping back to create more space between them. He decides it’s best not to mention the lockpicking and, instead, jumps right into name dropping. “Your, your roommate, Monica, she told me my friend came down here with you. Phil? Have you seen him?”

“Phil? Oh! Phiiiil, oh my god yes, that handsome devil,” Rachel beams and lightly punches Dan in the shoulder. “He was helping me bake earlier. Had this great recipe for pumpkin spice cookies? Delicious, mm oh my god. Have you--”

“Yes,” Dan cuts her off a bit harshly, “I’ve had them.” Maybe he’s jealous, maybe he’s just impatient. There’s no time to psychoanalyze his actions right now. “He’s left then?”

“Oh,” Rachel’s voice grows softer. She looks Dan over as if she’s deciding something. “Yes, he’s gone.”

“And do you need help with anything so I can get my best friend back?” Dan asks, no longer interested in banter with the locals.

“I could use your help unloading these baking trays,” Rachel asks, “Do you mind?” Green text swims into form between them.

  * **Just point me to the muffins!**
  * **Sorry, I’m allergic to manual labor.**
  * **No, I need to find my friend.**
  * **Nevermind.**



“Just point me to the muffins,” Dan selects without bothering to read the other options. His voice is decidedly less enthusiastic and lacking any sort of inflection requiring an exclamation point. Another pointless side quest, another dead end.

“Okay,” Rachel steps back and points to two cooling racks full of baked goods. “Please unload these trays to the countertop here and I will bring them out front.”

Dan cracks his knuckles and grabs an apron from the countertop. No sense getting flour all over his black jeans. He turns to face the cooling racks, mentally counting the trays as he secures the ties.

The first few trays are de-muffined in seconds. But the fourth gives him pause. The sticker says this flavor is called _Pistachio Pudding_. “Now that’s a color Shrek would be proud of,” Dan laughs holding up a neon green muffin to the light before placing it on the countertop. He turns to catch Phil roll his eyes in fond embarrassment, but there is only Rachel. Staring up at him in confusion.

“Who or what is a Shrek?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Dan mumbles, “ignore me.”

“Oh you British people and your silly words,” Rachel laughs, loading muffins into a display box. “Oi, ‘ello there, fancy a nice Shrek and crumpets with the Queen?”

Dan tries not to laugh but her accent is just so so terrible and he has a weakness for the atrocious. He turns to face her, hands on his hips, face locked in a serious pout, “I am so offended, I think I’m just going to throw the rest of these muffins on the floor.”

“Noooo,” Rachel whines, jumping in front of the cooling racks and Dan bursts out laughing.

For the briefest second he feels light again. He’d needed to let loose. But as the moment passes, he feels emptiness seep back in. The void where Phil should be laughing beside him.

“I need to get home,” Dan says. His face is stone again, hands back to robotically emptying the baking trays.

“Aww honey, you miss him bad huh?” Rachel stops behind him One hip propped on the counter, arms crossed as she saddles Dan with a sympathetic tilt of the head.

“Yeah, I just--”

“He said the same thing. Just really wanted to get home and find you.”

Dan’s face softens and he has to turn away. “Thank you,” he manages to whisper. Not daring to move until Rachel goes back up front. He’s not ready to cry in front of anyone.

After the last tray is cleared, a chime sounds out and Rachel returns to the kitchen.

“Thank you for all your help,” she says. “Here, take this,” Rachel hands him a small bag with two muffins inside. “Go, find your friend and get home.”

“Thank you,” Dan says, taking the muffins, “but where--”

“Ross took him to the train station by the park.”

“The park? Which--”

“THE park,” Rachel clarifies, “Central Park.”

“Got it. Thank you!” Dan waves and runs outside, renewed determination rushing through him.

The street is full of yellow taxicabs. But try as he might, hands flailing most ungraciously, no one will stop. After a moment he realizes the cars are driverless ghosts. Background decoration only. Dan grows impatient, looking for a street sign, a passing pedestrian. Anything at all to get him to the park. He’s in danger of a full blown panic attack when memory saves him.

“The lift!” He runs back inside to find the elevator doors sat open and awash in golden light. Within, the button labeled _Park_ is lit up. Dan rolls his eyes and selects his destination, hoping he hasn’t lost too much time.

With another flash the elevator shifts and the doors open to a large fountain. Dan rushes outside looking around for any sign or clue as to where Phil has gone. Nothing but trees and pavement all around. Save for a lone figure just behind the fountain. Tall, dark hair, blue jumper. His heart races as he rushes forward.

“Oh,” Dan stops, unable to hide his frown. “Hello Ross.”

“Umm.. uh, hi, do I.. Do I know you?” Ross fidgets, attempting to find a place for his hands and settling on an offered handshake.

Dan tries to find a smile and shakes his hand. Ross is annoying but he can relate to the social awkwardness. “No, we haven’t met. My name is Dan, pleasure to meet you. I was told by Rachel that I could find my friend here?”

“Oh. Oh! The British guy. Yeah, um, he just took off actu--”

“Damn!” Dan throws his hands up.

“S-sorry,” Ross replies.

“Okay, fine, it’s fine. Can you tell me where he’s gone?” The moment the question leaves his lips Dan watches Ross freeze and an exclamation point appear overhead.

“I can tell you if you help me finish digging up this skeleton here,” Ross says, gesturing over his shoulder. Because apparently there are dinosaur bones in Central Park now. Of course there are.

Dan sighs, watching the familiar green text float into existence.

  * **I’m your guy. Get me a shovel.**
  * **And this will take how long exactly?**
  * **I really don’t have time for this!**
  * **Nevermind**



He chooses option A though he’s beginning to feel more option C. He really doesn’t have time for this. “I’m your guy. Get me a shovel,” Dan says, disappointment in every syllable.

Ross manifests a shovel from his impossibly deep back pocket and hands it over. “Right this way!”

Dan follows, kicking at leaves and dragging his feet. His heart wants to hurry, get this over with, but he can feel himself withdrawing. Growing upset with every passing second. They come to a stop beside a tree, Ross’ yellow notifier hovering overhead. Beside him is an open area which surely does not exist in the real Central Park. Scattered locations lit up in amber light where Dan assumes he is supposed to dig.

He clears through them in minutes. Each bone popping out of the ground with ridiculous speed. And when all are revealed, Dan allows himself a moment of delight as each bone merges into one large animated skeleton. The lumbering beast walking itself uptown towards the Natural History Museum.  
“Wow, that was super fast!” Ross comments behind him. Dan turns, happy to see a green checkmark vanish.

“I am part Danosaur,” Dan says with a grin and an inappropriate wink he regrets immediately. “Now then, where is Phil?”

“Probably JFK by now,” Ross says with a shrug.

“What?” Dan can feel his cheeks heat up in anger.

“Phoebe picked him up in her cab, said she could give him a ride. I think he was going back home? Sorry.”

Dan panics, looking around, “Ross, I need to find him. How do I get to the airport?”

“Oh. Easy. Just go back to the ele--”

“Thank you!” Dan cuts him off, running back across the park, past the fountain and into the open doors of the lift. He nearly smashes the button in, pounding it with a closed fist. Muttering under his breath as the doors slide shut, “Come on come on come on.”

In a flash, the elevator bell dings and Dan edges back to the doors, buzzing with impatience as they reopen. He rushes out, nearly colliding with a stack of suitcases. He’s stood just inside the boarding area of Gate 4A. Thankful the game isn’t going to force him through some security checkpoint minigame, Dan looks around for any sign of Phil or Phoebe.

“Ugh come on, where are you?” Dan jumps atop a vacant seat to get a better vantage point. Two gates over, he spots Phoebe. Her familiar blonde ponytail bobbing as she talks animatedly with a flight attendant.

“Phoebe!” Dan yells, hopping down and elbowing his way through the crowd. “Phoebe Buffay!”

Frantic and gasping, Dan makes his way to the gate until he is face to face with a very confused and very started Pheebs.

“Oh? Oh my. Do I know you?” she asks.

Dan holds a finger up, indicating he needs a moment to catch his breath.

“Okay,” she smiles at him, then steps back, eyes wide. “Oh! Are you looking for Phil?”

Dan nods. Finally someone gets it. “Yes,” he answers. “Please, do you know where he is?”

But Phoebe doesn’t answer. And when Dan looks up, his face falls. She’s frozen. A red exclamation point crushing his hopes to find Phil before he leaves.

“Okay, what?” he snaps. “What do you need?”

“I’ve lost my cat at baggage claim,” Phoebe says. “Please help me get my smelly cat back? They’re my best friend.”

Dan sees red. Best friend? What about his best friend? He throws his hands up in exasperation and yells at the ceiling, “I want my best friend back!”

“Okay, geez, you don’t have to be rude about it,” Phoebe says and Dan looks back down, just in time to watch green text fade away.

  * **One stinky feline, coming up.**
  * **I want my best friend back!**
  * **Find your own gross cat.**
  * **Nevermind**



“Oh no,” he stammers out. “No no no, wait. Go back. Undo. I didn’t mean that. Please? Oh god how do I go back? Phoebe, I’ll help you. I can help just--”

“Through there,” Phoebe cuts him off, pointing to a blue door to the left of them.

“Phil is in there?” he asks, hesitant. But Phoebe does not answer.

Cautiously, Dan approaches the door. It looks harmless enough. No warning labels or ominous fog seeping through the cracks. He turns to ask Phoebe once more if Phil is inside, but she has vanished.

Turning the knob, Dan swings the door open and steps back.

Inside looks harmless. A small waiting room with orange and yellow chairs. Mounted televisions playing local news and sports stations. On the back wall is a list of departures. Dan thinks this is what Phoebe wanted him to see. His next clue to finding Phil. But as soon as he steps inside, the lights go out. Terrified and panicked, Dan shrieks, arms flailing out to collect his surroundings. He turns to leave when he hears his name.

“Dan! Dan, wait!” Phil is running through the airport towards him, arms waving frantically.

“Phil!” he smiles, his heart full to bursting with joy.

The door slams shut between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy frickballs it's been 3 months since I updated? Happy Christmas Folks! <3  
> \---  
> Lives:  
> Phil - 0 Dan - 1
> 
> Influences for this level:  
> Friends & everyRPGever


	8. Portal 2: Chicken Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will follow you into the dark.

Phil wrenches the door open and rushes inside, “Da--” His shins collide with a hard surface and suddenly he’s falling, tumbling, head over arse into a soft black cushion. He rights himself with a groan, “Ow. That’s going to leave a bruise.” Phil rubs at his leg and pulls his shirt back down over his exposed belly. He freezes. Pikachu pillow. Red chair. It’s the lounge.

“Dan?” he looks around the small office, pulling up cushions, peeking beneath the desk, hoping this has all been some elaborate prank and Dan is just hiding, waiting to jump out. But his friend is nowhere to be found.

Carefully, Phil opens the office door, fists up, legs ready to run. But there are no demons outside. No mystery forests full of fog and aliens. Just the white walls of a familiar hall. “Dan?” He calls out into the flat. Pauses, ears strained for any sign of life. “Dan!” Phil tries again, shouting loud as he can.

He is met with only silence.

Phil slowly descends the stairs, grabbing a roll of wrapping paper on his way to wield in defense. He kicks in each of their bedroom doors, waving his tube sword inside in a flurry of warning to any would-be attackers and whispering, “Dan?” But both rooms are empty.

As is the rest of the flat.

Phil huffs out a breath, exhausted from his search, and sets his paper weapon down on the kitchen counter to rest. Fingers tapping impatiently as he tries to think, **think** of anything.

_Come on Phil. Your best friend has vanished after being eaten by some hell game. What do you do?_

Phil snaps his fingers and spins round, dashing back upstairs to the lounge.

* * *

It’s dark and it’s cramped and Phil isn’t here and Dan decides he hates everything about this room. He holds his eyes closed, internal monologue mocking him for the ridiculousness of the act, but he reasons that with his eyes shut he can maintain a modicum of control over the darkness. Behind his eyes, the room isn’t dark, no. He’s just having a really, really long blink. Yes, that’s it. As soon as Dan opens his eyes, the walls will be bathed in a soft golden light and the sun himself will be there, smiling and waiting for a hug.

Dan backs himself into a corner, holds his breath for a moment. Then, upon hearing no immediate threat, opens his eyes.

To complete darkness.

“Fuck.”

* * *

“Dan?” Phil scrambles on his knees. He could have sworn he heard Dan’s voice just now. Tinny and broken like a low volume playback over crap wifi. He stops and stares at the lounge television in a mixture of confusion and excitement that turns his stomach. The screen is black save for a frozen block of pixels in the bottom left and what looks to be a mini map in the bottom right. One player stands at the end of a long hall, pacing left and right. **D A N** hovering in white block letters over a single red heart.

“Phil? Is that you?” the crackle of Dan’s voice echoes out into the room and Phil looks around for the source. “Phil, it’s dark. Really dark, please say something. Phil? Can you hear me?” Dan’s pink headphones vibrate on the desk and Phil lunges for them.

“Dan! I’m here,” Phil yells into the headset as he pulls them over his ears. He settles back in front of the telly, watching the little pacing pixel person freeze on screen.

“Phil?” Dan tries to move towards Phil’s voice but it echoes around him like an intercom.

“Yes, it’s me,” Phil assures his friend, wrapping the headset wire around his fingers in nervous fidgeting as he shuffles closer to the screen. The cord ends and he looks down, startled to find it’s not plugged into anything.

“Oh Phil, thank christ!” Dan sounds out of breath. Hand over his racing heart as he tries once more to get hold of his surroundings. “Phil, I can’t see anything. Where are you? Are you okay?”

Phil smiles, relaxing into the sound of familiar concern, “I’m home. I think. I mean, it looks like our flat. But I’m okay, Dan. Where are you?”

“Phil, it’s dark as my soul in here, I can’t see anything.”

“Right. Okay. Walk to your left I want to-- Oh! Look!” Phil waves at the telly excitedly before remembering Dan isn’t sat beside him.

“Phil, what’s going on. You’re freaking me out here and considering the day we’ve had..”

“Okay yes sorry. Umm how can I-- Oh! Do you remember when we played _Portal_ , and I was blindfolded?”

“Yeees?” Dan can feel the unease creeping back in.

“Well, I can see you. On our telly in the lounge.”

“Really?” Dan waves his hand.

“Yes! You just moved your little arm.”

“That’s kind of cool,” Dan turns around waving his arms in the air, still a bit disoriented not knowing where the cameras are posted but elated to have found Phil safe and alive in any capacity. It’s not the direct contact he’d hoped for, but it’s reassuring. He drops his hands back to his hips, “Can you see this?”

“What the fluff are you doing now?” Phil asks around a laugh.

“Dancing, baby! Can’t you tell by the way I move my hips? Sexy darkness dance, oh yeah...”

“It’s hard to see with your little pixel hips but--”

“Pixel?!” Dan stops gyrating.

“Yeah,” Phil says. “You look like the pixel people version of you!”

“What? Oh my god! How’s my hair?” Dan laughs, a bit hysterical. _This has to be a joke, right?_ His 2D arm moves up to adjust the blocky fringe on screen.

“Looks a bit flat,” Phil deadpans.

“Oh ha ha,” Dan frowns. “Escort yourself out the window, **right now**. Wait. Didn’t I say we would both die if the roles were swapped?”

“Did you? Anyway, it doesn’t matter as we’re about to prove past you wrong!”

“That confident are we?”

“Yes,” Phil tears his eyes off pixel-Dan to inspect the map. Nothing clearly says _Exit_ but there is a blinking red dot on the other end of the map. “Just trust me, Dan. Let’s-a go!”

Dan laughs and god does that feel good. He can picture Phil perfectly. Fists balled up in determination, cheeky grin on his face. He feels safer already. “Okay, Philip, get me out of here.”

“Right--”

“Go right?”

“No, I meant I’m ready.”

“Okay. Sorry, a bit eager to get out of here. You know how much I hate the dark and it’s creepy A F. Go on then.”

“It’s okay, Dan. I’m here. Now, walk straight ahead, but go slowly.”

Dan takes a small step, then another and another. Counting them out just in case he needs to double back.

“Stop.”

Dan stills. His heart racing.

“Okay. Now, Dan, don’t be alarmed, but below you is a long drop,” Phil leans closer to the screen, squinting, “to a spike floor--”

“Fantastic. Oh no, that’s-- that’s-- why would that alarm me? That sounds like the most fun place ever. I wish _all_ my floors had spikes. In fact, when I get home, I’m installing spikes in my bedroom. In the ceiling, along the door, all the walls, edgy as heck.”

“You need to jump--” Phil cuts him off before the sarcasm spirals any further.

“What?!”

“You can make it, Dan. Trust me. There’s a ledge across from you, level with the one you’re stood on.”

“Great, no, sounds terrible, how far away is it?”

Phil holds his hand up to the screen, “about two of the steps you just took, maybe shorter.”

“And is the ledge moving or--”

“No.”

“Okay. um... “ Dan begins pacing, “how wide is the floor? Is there a chance I can overjump?”

“No, it goes off the screen.”

“Okay,” Dan breathes, closes his eyes and tries not to think about how painful it would be to fall face first into a basement full of spikes, “Fuck it.”

He jumps.

For a moment it feels like he’s suspended in air, the world falling away beneath him. But the elation gives way to something darker, nagging in the back of his head. He thinks maybe he’s overdone, jumped too high. And Dan thinks he’s had five heart attacks in the time it takes for his feet to find solid ground again.

“Yes!” Phil yelps out as pixel-Dan nails his landing, “You did it!”

“I did it!”

“Yay!”

“I’m alive!”

Dan raises his hand, waiting for a high five that never comes, “virtual high five, Philly!” He holds his arm up higher.

“I’ll high five your little pixel hand,” Phil touches his finger to the screen, stroking pixel-Dan’s arm, “There! You did really good!”

“Thanks,” Dan laughs, trying to catch his breath. “That was the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life!”

Phil laughs with him, hand over his own racing heart as he finds himself swept up in Dan’s excitement. He looks back to the minimap, “Okay, next you are going to walk forward until you come to a wall.”

Dan starts walking, his pace sped up, empowered by endorphins and ready to get a move on. He feels, if you will pardon the pun, on fire. He just jumped over certain death, Dan can do anything now, he can-- “Ow! I’m at the wall,” Dan steps back and rubs his sore nose, thankful said wall is devoid of spikes.

“Okay, strafe left, just a bit.”

“A normal bit or your version of a bit where I go falling into oblivion?”

“Just a little tiny bit. Maybe half a chicken step.”

“A chick-- what the hell does that mean?”

“Like a baby bird step! Not a Dan-sized one!”

“A tiny. Bird. Step. Sure, that makes sense,” Dan shrugs and tip-toes to his left. “If I die I’m coming for you and your fucking chickens.”

“Stop. There, okay, turn around. Behind you should be another wall and a ladder, I think.”

“Oh fabulous, you know what I love more than the dark? A cheeky climb up a ladder in the dark.”

“Come on Dan, you can do it! Climb up, one, two” Phil counts out the little pixel lines, “twelve rungs.”

“Okay,” Dan goes carefully, double and triple checking his footing each step up. He starts humming, distracting himself with a song. “I can do it. I’m not going to die. I am the best at climbing ladders. I am going to rule ladders so hard. Laaaaddeeers. Ladders EP.”

“Coming soon to ears near you,” Phil adds as pixel-Dan reaches the next floor. “There. Okay one second, let me see which way...”

Dan stops and waits. His mind wandering to what lies below. In his head it’s a mix of every platformer he’s ever played and his imagination is a dangerous playground. He pictures a narrow black floor just beyond the ladder’s edge, dropping off into nothingness. Wondering how far down the pit would go. Maybe if he falls, he can fall forever--

“Dan?”

“Sorry,” Dan shakes the thoughts away.

“It’s okay, you were talking to yourself. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall. There is a ledge and a doorway to your right. You should be able to stick your leg out to find it.”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Dan shifts his weight to his left leg, lifting his right and carefully poking a toe into the darkness. His knuckles are white, he can’t see them to be sure, but he knows. For the longest stretch of silence, no one breathes.

“You got it!” Phil yelps out in joy as pixel-Dan steps off the ladder and into the new hallway.

Dan flings himself against the wall, gasping for air, “Jesus, Phil!”

“Sorry. I got excited for you.”

“Yeah, I heard. Pretty sure half of London heard as well.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dan feels around for the door frame and centers himself, “Where do I go now?”

“Straight down the hall about… eight normal size steps.”

“Okay.” Dan walks in silence, carefully counting steps in his mind, trying to keep them as even as one can without visual reference.

“A little more.”

Dan shuffles half a step forward.

“Liiiittle more.”

Dan toes forward, arms outstretched.

“Stop!”

“Christ on a boat, Phil! My heart is going to explode before I get out of this fucking game if you keep yelling like that.”

“Sorry! I can’t help it, I’m nervous. My arms are covered in goose pimples and my hands are shaking. I don’t want you to die,” Phil whines, eyes darting to the red heart hovering over pixel-Dan’s head.

“It’s okay, I don’t want me to die either,” Dan tries to calm himself. “What’s next?”

“There’s another ledge, and a moving platform and..”

“And?”

“And the floor is lava. Or fire,” Phil leans in, “something red.”

“Of course it is. Is the platform moving up and down or side to side, Phil?”

“Up and down.”

“How far away?”

“Same as earlier, about two steps.”

“Okay, umm. One minute. Fuck me...” Dan braces himself against the wall, he can feel his palms going sweaty, wiping them on his jeans. He closes his eyes again, tries to map out the obstacles in his mind and brace himself for the jump. With a deep breath, he reopens his eyes. “You know, it would be nice if the lava fire red stuff would follow the simple rules of physics and cast some light up here. A little illumination, you know? I really really don’t want to fall in lava and melt my face off. I like my face unmelted please.”

Phil smiles a sad smile, knowing Dan can’t see the reassurance in his eyes. So he tries to put it into his voice. Softer, encouraging. Like he’s speaking to a wounded pigeon, or coaxing one of the houseplants to stop going brown and losing leaves. “I’ll talk you through it, Dan. You can make it. Just a short jump to the floating platform, then one more little hop to the other side. It should be easy.”

“Easy? That sounds like more exercise than I’ve ever done in my life, Phil.”

“Then that just means you won’t have to exercise again for a whole year!”

“What?”

“No, it’s true. It’s a rule. When you work out you get a cheat day but this is extra hard so it should be worth a hundred cheat days. Just imagine, weeks in your sofa crease.. endless scrolling on Tumblr. I’ll even bring you popcorn and biscuits.”

“Oh, you’re going to feed me up?”

“If you make this jump, yes.”

“Okay. I’m ready.”

“On three,” Phil keeps his eyes on the floating platform, “One.. Two.. Jump!”

Dan jumps, arms flailing out to maintain his balance. A difficult task on the levitating floor, but after a few wobbly seconds, he’s upright and clutching his chest. Gasping to breathe. “Made it,” Dan says after a moment, a bit disappointed that Phil has held back his customary yelp of excitement. He strains his ears.

“Yessss,” Phil’s muffled celebration gets through and Dan can’t help but smile. He can perfectly see the excited arm pump and a boisterous smile. But the floor shifts and his mood quickly flops.

“Phiiiil... I’m ready to get off this thiiiiing,” Dan singsongs out into the darkness, arms wavering to keep his balance. The constant movement is beginning to make him dizzy. Up and down, up and down, up and--

“Okay. Same distance,” Phil answers in his serious voice, eyes focused back on pixel-Dan. “On three, ready?”

“Yes, god, just go go go!”

“Okay, okay, one second.. and.. Jump!”

“Wahoo--” Phil yells out but covers his mouth immediately, cheers muted as pixel-Dan finds his footing on the new ledge. “Sorry,” Phil mumbles out once Dan stops flailing.

“I don’t mind,” Dan reassures him, leaning against the wall to catch his breath once more. “It’s actually, comforting. Really. I mean it. Just imagine what this would be like if it was just me. All alone. Fumbling around in the dark with spikes and lava. I’d have died already, tbqfh. No, hearing your voice makes this less weird and more.. Normal. If that makes any sense.”

“No, I mean yes, it makes sense. No, it’s not weird. Your voice is.. hearing you helps me calm down too. I’m so scared, Dan. I think *hic* yeah see, i knew it! Hiccups. I don’t.. *hic* This is so much pressure. I don’t want to kill you!”

“How are you a grown adult? You’re too adorable,” Dan laughs as Phil hiccups again. “Just take a deep breath and do that magic thing you did with me.”

“What magic thing?” Phil squeaks around another hiccup.

“That voodoo breathy county thing. You hold your breath. I’ll count. Ready… Breathe in deep and one.. two.. three… four.. And breath out slowly…” Dan pauses listening to Phil’s labored breathing steady and fade. “Feel better?”

“Yes! I think.. Wait…” Phil stops, “No yeah they’re gone. Thank you!”

“That’s what I’m here for! Now, which way to the exit?”

“Straight ahead a few steps annnnd stop. Now turn right. Back left just a bit. There!”

Dan stills, waiting.

“Go forward.. three Dan-sized steps.”

“Oh good, I have my Dan-sized feet on.”

“Stop!”

“Ow,” Dan flinches back, rubbing at his forehead.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Phil. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“Sorry.”

“Just.. where do I go now?”

“Umm.. it looks like.. down?”

“What do you mean down?”

“Wait.. wait.. Can you crouch?”

“Can I? I mean-- I should be able-- let’s see,” Dan slowly lowers himself until he is on his hands and knees. “Yes, I can crouch. Is there an air duct or something?”

“A tunnel it looks like. To your right. But before--”

“Ow! Jesus on a-- what the fuck ow Ow! Goddamnmothershittingfu--,” Dan’s string of expletives is lost to a sucking noise as he puts his fingers into his mouth. The copper taste of blood already filling him with dread and disgust.

“Dan! Dan what happened? Talk to me,” Phil panics, looking on helplessly as little pixel-Dan flashes red. Half of his remaining life blinking out as he crawls into the tunnel and stops. “Dan!”

“I think I’m bleeding, Phil. I can’t, oh god it stings. Something sharp in the floor just sliced up my fingers. Felt like bloody knives. Is that what you were trying to warn me about?”

“No. I didn’t even-- God, I’m so sorry,” Phil goes pale, choking on guilt as he leans closer to the telly, trying to see if the floor looks different. But there is no indication of what Dan touched. He sees a flash of yellow along the ceiling and remembers what he’d meant to say. “I can’t see anything in the floor, Dan. But, the ceiling looks electric though, so keep your head low. Are you cut bad? Can you move?”

“It’s bleeding but.. I think, I think I can move,” Dan’s words are shaky, but he pushes on, crawling on his forearms to keep his sliced fingers safe from further injury.

“Stop!” Phil’s scream is so loud, so sudden, it startles them both to silence.

“What is it?” Dan whispers. His eyes are wide, straining to see any sign of danger in the pitch blackness ahead.

“Floor spikes. I just saw behind you, and in front of you. There are spikes coming up from the floor.”

Dan hears the distinct _snnkkt_ of metal sliding past metal and turns his head, squinting into the darkness. “How far--”

“No! Don’t. Move.”

“Phil, jesus, my heart--”

“Dan, just.. let me figure the timing out before you move.”

“Okay. Holding still, not moving, but can you at least describe it to me or tell me what you see? I don’t like not knowing what’s out there trying to kill me.”

“Yes. Of course,” Phil watches the pixel triangles of death pop up from the floor, counting seconds in his mind before they disappear and reappear again. “There are four spots with spikes coming up from the floor at regular intervals, every ten seconds they pop up and stay up for five seconds. The first one is right where you came in and the next one is directly in front of you.”

“How close?”

“You would lose your nose if you try to sniff them.”

“Got it. No sniffing the death spikes. Anything else?”

“Keep your head low. Lightning sparks on the ceiling.”

“Death above, death below, got it.”

“Okay, the spike sections are as wide as your pixel body. So try to move forward about the same distance as you are long. Can you do that?”

“I don’t exactly have a choice.”

“Right. Sorry. Ready?”

“On your word, just say when.”

“Okay. In three. Two. Go!” Phil watches pixel-Dan crawl forward. “Stop!”

“Jesus, fuck, I am going to die here.”

“No, I won’t let that happen.”

“This is exhausting.”

“You can rest when we get you out of there.”

“I am going to take the longest nap when I get home.”

“Two more, Dan. You can do it.”

“Ready when you are.”

“Go!”

“Phil!” Dan surges forward.

“Stop!”

“A little warning next time, please. There’s no rush. If I miss a spike pop, we can count-- wait. There isn’t a timer or a countdown or anything is there?”

Phil checks the screen, just in case he’s missed something, “No.”

“Okay, one more?”

“Yes.”

“I’m ready.”

“Three.. Two.. go!”

Dan crawls forward, bracing himself for Phil’s shout but it never comes, so he slows and stops on his own. “Phil?”

“Why are you stopping?”

“You didn’t say anything so I got worried. I can’t see anything in front of me Phil, you have got to tell me what’s up there.”

“Right, sorry, I keep forgetting.”

“Can I stand up--”

“No!” Phil yelps as a flash of yellow darts over pixel-Dan’s head. “Sorry, the lightning zap is still there.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll keep my head down. Now how much further to the end?”

“I can’t tell, the tunnel goes off screen.”

“Are you sure this is the way out?”

“Well….on the minimap, you’re getting closer to the blinking red dot.”

“Blinking red dot? That’s what you’re going on?”

“It’s not like there’s a big arrow saying _Home This Way!_ ”

“I know, s’not your fault. It’s just. Red dots are usually bad guys, Phil. In most games I’ve played, a red dot on your minimap means there is a monster or a guy with a bigger weapon.”

“Oh! I mean, I knew that, I just thought.. There isn’t anything else on the map. Just you and a red dot.”

“Hmm.. I guess,” Dan thinks it over. Realizes he too would have chosen to move towards the only indicator on the map. “To the red dot of mystery then. Does it look far?”

“You’re halfway there on the map. From where you started. I’m not sure how long this tunnel is, but just keep going?”

Phil’s voice is shaking and Dan can feel every second ticking by as he crawls along in silence. His hand is throbbing but he swallows back the pain, not wishing to worry his friend needlessly. It’s probably just a papercut anyway. If he was going to bleed out, he’d be dead already at the rate his heart is pounding. Darkness plus tight cramped spaces equals not a happy Dan. “Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please talk to me. About anything. Just... something else so I can stop thinking for ten seconds?”

“Yeah, okay. Umm..” Phil looks around the lounge, trying to find inspiration.

“Tell me what happened while we were separated,” Dan suggests, “when I thought..” _you were dead_ , he finishes in his mind.

“Oh!” Phil smiles. “That was the craziest level, Dan. I saw you so many times!”

“What?!” Dan stops moving a moment, opening and closing his hand to make sure he can still feel each finger before continuing.

“You remember at the airport, after I saw Phoebe yelling at you, I tried to run to you.”

“Yeah..”

“Well I saw you before that.”

“What? When?”

“After I went to Monica’s, I was getting in the lift and I heard you saying my name. But the doors were already closing and I couldn’t get out. I tried shouting, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then, when I got back to the apartments you had already gone to the shops. It was frickin annoying.”

“God, I know. I was in such a hurry to find you.”

“Me too!”

“Oh! When I was with Rachel at the cafe, I saw you walk by the window outside, but when I ran out, you were gone,” Phil drops his head, hands fidgeting in the loose headset wire.

“Damn!”

Phil’s head jerks back to the telly, “Dan? What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, sorry, I just. I can’t believe you were right fucking there the entire time. I was losing my mind looking for you. I mean jesus, I thought you were dead, Phil. Last thing I saw was Rem.. and then you..” Dan sighs, clenching his hand until the pain is enough to distract him to move forward.

“Yeah..” Phil trails off. His heart aches with longing once more. Reaching out to touch the screen, tracing the outline of pixel-Dan as he shuffles down the tunnel.

“Right? God this game is a real piece of shit. Just fucking with us this whole time. I can’t believe--”

“Oh… So close!” Phil squeaks.

“I know! I can’t believe you were one step ahead of m--”

“Not that, Dan. You’re near the end of the tunnel!”

“Really? Thank christ, my body is not made for hunching over under low ceiling. Or crawling. Or any exercise if we’re being honest. I swear to god I better have like eighty abs after this or there is no justice in this world.”

“Eighty abs? That would look so creepy!” Phil laughs.

“Okay maybe not eighty..” Dan pauses, the floor feels different beneath his touch, round and pebbled like a cobblestone street. “Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“The floor feels weird. Am I at the end?”

“Oh! Yes. You can stand up now.”

Carefully, Dan gets up from his knees. Arms lifting, stretching and pulling at sore muscles. Every inch of him enjoying the freedom of open space. “Okay, where to next?”

“Turn left.”

“Turning left,” Dan says as he shifts.

“There is, hmm, it looks like a switch or something.”

“A switch?”

“Yes, a yellow square by a door where the red dot is.”

“I’m at the dot?” Dan gets excited.

“No, sorry. Not yet. It’s above you. High up on a ledge.”

“More ladders?” Dan frowns.

“A few.”

“First one in front of me?” Dan raises his hands, hissing when injured fingers come into contact with cool metal.

“Yes. Just go all the way up, next level is at the top.”

“Got it.”

Phil sits back, watching pixel-Dan ascend the first ladder. His eyes trace out a safe path in the map, avoiding cracks and what looks to be crumbling bits of floor. “Okay, next one, two steps to your right.”

“Chicken steps?” Dan teases.

“Regular Dan-size steps.”

“Okay,” Dan holds his arms out again. Thankful when it’s his wrist that collides with the next ladder. “All the way up?”

“All the way up.”

So it goes for several minutes until Dan has scaled fourteen ladders and climbed up fifty stories at least. “This is exhausting!” Dan pauses to catch his breath on the platform, “but I’m beginning to appreciate the total darkness.”

“What? Why?”

“Think about it, Phil. If I could look down and see how high up I am, I would probably pass out and die from the shock alone.”

Phil laughs but his heart isn’t in it. A soft, forced chuckle. He doesn’t want Dan to die. Not even in a hypothetical joke.

“Nice laugh.”

“Sorry. Can’t think about that right now.”

“No probs, Philly. I getcha. Lets-a go!”

Phil looks the room over, eyes searching for something until, “There’s no getting around it. The last one you need to jump, Dan. Sorry. But just one jump and you will be at the dot and the door.”

“That’s it just one more jump to get home? I’m jump pro MOG now, all the practice we had earlier. Pssh, bring it on. Jumping. Please,” though no one else can see him, Dan rolls his eyes.

Phil laughs, relaxing into the smile he can feel in Dan’s voice, “Okay, master gamer, you can do this. But it’s a bit far, you need a running start.”

“Running? Nope, I didn’t sign up for running,” Dan crosses his arms and hopes his pixel face is frowning.

“Dan, listen. You need to go back about four steps to the platform edge, then run. Two big running steps and jump across.”

“Just one jump and that’s it?”

Phil looks at the screen. All that remains is one leap across a wide gap between platforms before the door. There is nothing below but darkness, and he can’t tell how far down Dan will fall should he miss, “That’s it.”

“Okay then,” Dan sighs, shakes the tingling from his hands, “Here we go.”

Phil twines the headset wire around his wrist, pulling and pulling as he holds his breath. Eyes glued to the game. On the telly, pixel-Dan walks back to the platform edge. He pauses, then sprint forward. A blur of motion behind his pixel feet and suddenly he’s blinking across the screen, clearing the gap.

“Yay!” Dan exclaims, as soon as his feet touch solid ground. “I made--” As his weight settles, the floor shifts and crumbles. His arms flail, desperate to stay balanced, but the floor has gone and he’s tumbling, tumbling back.

“Dan!” Phil reaches out, helpless as his friend plummets on screen.

Pixel-Dan hits the floor with a sick squishy noise and the crack of breaking bone and Phil wrenches the headset from his ears, tossing them across the room. He watches as the last half of Dan’s heart blinks out and disappears, and his vision goes red, anger pulsing through his veins.

“Noooo!” Phil screeches at the game before his heart breaks in full. He collapses back to the carpet, hands pressing into his eyes, hoping that if he can keep the tears in, it won’t be real. His entire body shakes in silent sobs. The frustration of everything finally crashing in on him until he can’t feel anything but the emptiness and the dark.

A muffled series of beeps echoes from beneath the blinds, “Phil?”

“Dan?” Phil jumps up, rushing to retrieve the headset. The tangled mess is snatched from behind the sofa and he settles back in front of the telly, pulling the pink headphones over his ears and wiping tears away on the back of his hand. “Dan, you’re alive! Are you okay?”

“Well, I’m not dead. Video game rules, remember? Zero lives is your real last life. And the good news is, my hands have healed,” Dan tries to be cheerful but he can tell Phil has been crying. The realization and familiarity putting a lump in his own throat. “Talk me back up the ladders, Phil. I want to get the fuck out of here. You can do it.”

“Okay okay.. Umm.. to your right. The first one is to your right.”

Together they work through the series of ladders again until Dan is back on the final precipice preparing to leap.

This time, he runs faster, pushes off harder and lands with a precision that would make an Olympic gymnast cry. Holding his eyes shut, Dan is shaking, terrified any shift of his weight will send him plummeting once more. “Did I make it?”

“Yes! Dan, you did it!”

“Oh thank christ,” Dan collapses to the floor, his legs no longer willing to support six feet of anxiety.

“Dan?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just need.. need to catch my breath. What’s coming next?”

“Okay.. um. Behind you, is a yellow button or a switch. And that should open the door it’s next to. Can you see anything or--”

“Nope,” Dan pops the p with a frown, “Still dark as fuck in here.”

“Right, okay. When you’re ready then--”

“I’m ready,” Dan gets back to his feet, “my arms are out and ready to flail into the darkness for this mystery button.”

Phil laughs as pixel-Dan goes into zombie mode, “Okay, turn left. A bit more. A bit more. There Now walk forward, it should be right in front of you.”

Dan sweeps his hands around, palms open and searching. After two short steps, his fingers brush something smooth and plastic embedded in the wall. With a nervous swallows he steps forward, and presses down. His efforts are rewarded with a soft click and the first sign of light his eyes have seen in hours.

“That’s it!” Phil yelps, clapping in excitement as the button and white rectangle beside pixel-Dan both light up green.

“Green! I can see the door, Phil! It’s so green! Never thought I’d be this overjoyed to see tacky lime green but it’s the most beautiful hue my eyes have ever laid upon,” Dan moves towards the glowing door like a moth to flame, hovering and flitting with nervous energy. “God, I just want to, rub my body against it.”

“Don’t do that!” Phil yelps but he’s giggling, brimming over like a too full bubble bath. “See if there is a handle or something.”

“I don’t.. I don’t see anything, Phil. Maybe I just walk through?” Dan asks aloud even as he steps forward. As he gets closer, a seam appears in the center of the door, white light piercing through. “Yep, just walking through. Here I go!”

Phil watches the green rectangle split in two, top and bottom pulling away to swallow pixel-Dan in a white glow as he passes through and blinks away. Suddenly, the screen blinks thrice and goes black. Red text bursting into existence.

**G A M E O V E R**

“Dan!”

* * *

Dan regrets every second he’s ever spent wanting to see. The light is blinding, a searing pain drilling through his eyelids and into his skull. He holds one arm up, shielding himself as he stumbles down the corridor. He hears Phil’s voice but it sounds further away than before. Still, it’s something, and he uses the sound as his anchor. Walking until he collides with a wall and is forced to lower his arm, blinking and squinting and waiting for the obstruction to swim into focus.

He’s reached the end of the hall. And a solid steel door with a push bar which reminds him of a rooftop fire escape. It doesn’t appear locked, but he steps back just in case, checking for clues. Looking up, Dan can’t help but smile as the four most beautiful letters in the entire alphabet greet his stinging eyes:

**EXIT**

In the next room, he is hit with the full force of blinding sunlight and the air feels thicker. Warmer and heavy with smells he hasn’t sniffed in ages. Dan closes his eyes a moment, blinking and fumbling forward on baby deer legs when he is knocked back on his arse, “Oof!”

“Dan!” Phil doesn’t think, he just tackles him. The lounge door opens and he doesn’t care about anything else. The force of the hug toppling them both until Dan is on his back, half in the lounge and half in the hall, with a lap full of Phil nuzzling into his chest and murmuring, “you’re alive, you’re alive, oh god, Dan, you’re alive.”

“Of course I’m alive you dingus!” Dan gasps out in unsteady breaths, still trying to take stock of his surroundings. But all his senses are overridden with Phil’s voice and Phil’s smells and Phil’s touch. “I just walked through a hallway. I didn’t get shanked in the spine by a Death God and carted off like a sack of potatoes, unlike soooome people.”

“Hey!” Phil laughs, sitting back on his heels to let Dan sit up, “too soon!” Phil gets back to his feet, offering a hand down to his friend. And when Dan takes hold, he finds letting go is too hard and Phil laces their fingers together instead, tugging Dan forward into a proper hug.

“Phil,” Dan smiles, pulling back to get a good look at the face he hasn’t seen in what feels like centuries.

“Sorry,” Phil recoils in fear, afraid he’s crossed a line. But his retreat is stopped short. His right hand tethered by Dan’s fingers.

And when Phil looks up, he finds that Dan is smiling at him. That soft, dimpled smile he gets when he’s had too much wine or when it’s really really cold in the flat and he’s cocooned himself in jumpers and his duvet. “Phil,” he says again, pulling Phil back into the hug and holding him tighter, “I missed you too.”

A shared sigh drawls out between them and Phil nuzzles in closer. Dan gasps as soft hairs tickle his neck and his body reacts without warning, skin growing flushed and fevered. A soft moan slips out and Dan feels the panic sweep in. This is too real, too emotional. His legs twitch, ready to sweep into flight mode, Mouth and mind teaming up to dish out sarcasm and snark. But just as he is about to pull back, Phil breathes out through his nose and the warm breath on his neck stirs something else in Dan. His grip tightens as his free hand slides down from Phil’s shoulder to his waist, pulling them closer. For the longest time, they just hold one another, pulse and warmth and murmured sighs reassuring each that their best friend is really, really here.

“Dan--”

“Phil--”

They laugh, both leaning back to look at the other but unwilling to let go.

“After you,” Phil offers, laying his head back to rest on Dan’s shoulder.

“Thank you. I mean, thank you for getting me out of there. And for everything really. I was so scared I would never see you again, I thought.. When I saw you. But you’re here now. Alive. And that’s all I ever needed really, so, thank you. For coming back.”

Phil looks up and smiles, his eyes watering. “Dan--” he freezes, unable to find the words to say what he needs to say. And in the silence between them Dan licks and bites at his lips, a nervous habit he’s always had. But this time, Phil can’t take his eyes away. Mere inches between him and those soft, pink lips. Dan smiles and Phil can’t hold himself back any longer.

He leans up, closes the gap and kisses the smile right off Dan’s face.

For a terrifying moment, Dan doesn’t react. His mind flatlines and some broken part of his memory wonders if he’s drowning and about to wake up in a swimming anime again. But then Phil starts to pull away and that’s just not the way this is supposed to go at all.

Dan’s lips catch up with his mind and he kisses back, pulling Phil closer, melting into him. He can feel Phil grinning and in a moment of boldness decides that smart arse smirk needs nibble. Nipping at Phil’s lower lip and pulling back to watch his reaction.

“Oh my god,” Phil’s voice comes out a deep and broken whisper as Dan’s lips move to his ear, “Is this--”

“Yes,” Dan whispers, peppering Phil’s cheek with kisses on his way back to the lips, “You have my consent. Now shut up and kiss me again.”

“Are you saying I have your kiss-sent?” Phil teases, eyebrows arched.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Dan laughs, kissing the pun monster between bursts of laughter.

Giggles dissolve into moans as the kissing grows more heated and hands begin to wander. Dan’s trousers conveniently shifting themselves in the tumble and Phil takes the opportunity to get two handfuls of plush Dan bum. Fingers working a gentle rolling massage. Dan goes to putty under Phil’s hands, following as he backs them towards the sofa. Phil lets go just long enough to sit down, pulling Dan into his lap.

From his new angle, Phil sets to kissing up every inch of exposed neck until Dan is writhing and gasping above him. He holds tight to Dan’s hips, restraining every urge to buck up his own. But Dan cannot be constrained. He shifts, rolling his hips down, pulling a startled squeak from Phil as the evidence of their mutual attraction is all too clear.

“Wait wait wait..” Dan gasps out, pulling away.

“What? Dan?” Phil tries to fight off a pout but Dan is standing up and taking his lips and his warmth with him. His inner fears creep back in, whispering how he’s pressuring Dan into something he doesn’t want. Telling him to let go and move on and--

“No no, don’t worry,” Dan smiles down at his messy-haired flatmate. Lips swollen and pink and pouting. “I’m not changing my mind, Phil. I just, I need to do something. Real quick. Then we can right get back to.. this.” With a cheeky wink he turns round.

Phil watches Dan cross the room, eject the game CD and throw it to the carpet, mashing it beneath his socked feet until there is nothing left but shards of glittering plastic. Phil laughs at the ridiculousness of the act but puts on a big, serious fake frown as he crosses his arms and tries to play the role of a stern responsible flatmate, “You’ll have to hoover that later, Daniel!”

“That sounds like a problem for future me,” Dan shrugs.

“Oh?” Phil lets his gaze trail up and down Dan’s body as he walks back to the sofa. His shirt disheveled over jeans barely holding on, pants pushed aside to expose one perfect hipbone begging to be marked. “And what does present you want to do?”

Dan stops just in front of Phil, holding his hand out, “I believe I was promised a very long nap.” He tugs and pulls Phil up until they are standing face to face once more, “Take me to bed?”

Phil’s eyes light up with a naughty grin as he follows his flatmate downstairs. Excitement coursing through every nerve. It was almost worth the terror and multiple deaths to ride the adrenaline high he’s on now. Almost.

They are halfway down the steps when Phil stops.

“Dan?”

“Hmm?” Dan looks back to find Phil lost in thought, like he’s trying to work out a complicated maths equation.

He opens his mouth a few times, almost ready to speak, only to snap it shut again until a smile breaks out and his eyes go wide, “You know, technically, I got home first.”

“Phil.. no.”

“Does that mean I won?”

“Phil!”

“Dan. Seriously. Where is my _Tabi_ sticker?”

“I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's complete!!! I hope you liked it. Teen rating so all the smut is implied. ;) Thank you for coming on this Phantastic Voyage with me. I had so much fun writing these chapters and reading all your lovely comments. Love and happiness to the best Phandom ever! xx


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